OAK  ST.  HDSF 


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LIBRARY  OF 

Illinois  Industrial  University, 

CHAMPAIGN,  ILLINOIS. 

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SAXTON’S 


rural  hand  books. 


RICHARDSON  ON  THE  HORSE, 
RICHARDSON  ON  THE  HOG, 

RICHARDSON  ON  THE  HONEY  BEE, 
RICHARDSON’S  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM,  ^ 
RICHARDSON’S  DOMESTIC  FOWLS, 
MILBURN  ON  THE  COW. 


NEW  YORK : 

C.  M.  SAXTON, 

AGRICULTURAL  BOOK  PUBLISHER. 

1852. 


FIRST  SERIE 


o 


\ 


CONTAINING 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1852,  by 
C.  M.  SAXTON, 

in  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


S.  W.  BENEDICT, 
Stereotypf.r  and  Printer 
16  Spruce  street,  N.  Y- 


o o 


HOUSES; 


THEIR  VARIETIES,  BREEDING, 


r7 


MANAGEMENT  {N  HEALTH  AND  DISEASE. 


ET 

H.  D.  RICHARDSON, 

Autkor  of  'Domestic  Fowl,”  “The  Pests  of  the  Farm,”  "The  H-ag,” 
•‘The  Hive  and  the  Honey-Bee,”  etc.,  etc. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  ON  WOOD. 


NEW  YORK: 

C.  M.  SAXTON  & COMPANY, 

Agricultural  Book  ITbumisrs,  140  Fulton  St. 

18  5 0. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  rear  la*'? 

U M.  SAAT-JN, 

in  the  C srk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


PUBLISHER’S  ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  Publisher,  haying  found  the  want  of  small,  cheap  Books,  of 
acknowledged  merit,  on  the  great  topics  of  farming  economy,  and 
meeting  for  those  of  such  a class  a constant  demand,  offers,  in  this 
one,  a work  calculated  to  fill  the  void. 

The  works  of  Richardson  on  the  Hog,  the  Horse,  the  Bee,  the 
Domestic  Fowl,  and  the  Pests  of  the  Farm,  are  popular  in  England 
and  in  America,  and,  in  evidence  of  their  worth,  meet  with  continued 
sale  both  there  and  here.  Hitherto  they  have  not  been  offered  to  the 
American  public  in  an  American  dress ; and  the  Publisher  presents 
n this  Reprint,  one  of  the  series,  adapted  to  American  wants,  and 
trusts  that  a discerning  Public  will  both  buy  and  read  these  little 
Treatises,  so  admirably  adapted  to  all  classes,  and  fitted  by  their 
size  for  the  pocket,  and  thus  readable  at  the  fireside,  on  the  road, 
and  in  short  everywhere. 

0.  M.  SAXTON, 

Agricultural  Book  Publisher . 


Z.Z.W 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 


Page  I Page 

Introductory . 7 | Original  Country  8 


CHAPTER  II. 


Asiatic  Horses. 


The  Arabian 

9 

The  Tazee 

13 

The  Persian 

The  Takan 

14 

The  Tartarian 

The  T^olaree 

ib. 

The  Turkoman 

The  Cutch 

ib. 

The  Turkish 

The  Dattywarr 

ib 

Hindostanee ." 

13 

CHAPTER  III. 

African 

Horses. 

The  Barb 

14 

1 The  Horses  of  Donkala 

The  Nubian 

“ 

ib. 

The  Horses  of  the  “ Hegira  ” . . 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Horses  of  America. 

Wild  Steed 16  I Horses  of  West  Indian  Islands 17 

Horses  of  Canada ib.  English  Importations ib. 

Improvement  in  American  breeds ib.  | 

CHAPTER  V. 


Horses  of  Europe. 


History  of  the  Horse  in  England  ... 

. ..  17 

1 The  Crusades 

22 

The  Roman  Conquest 

Richard  Coeur  de  Leon 

Introduction  of  the  Saddle 

...  19 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Horses  of  Europe — Continued. 

Establishment  of  Post-Horses  and  Stages  26  | The  Markharm  Arabian  27 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Horses  of  Europe— Continued. 

The  Darley  Arabian 23  | The  Present  time 80 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Indigenous  Hop.ses  of  Scotland  and  Ireland. 

Highland  Pony 3!  I Hunter 32 

Shcltie *. ib.  Foigh-a-ballagh » 33 

Irish  Horses ib  | Harkaway ib 


CONTENTS. 


6 


The  Racer 

Flviug  Chil.iers 

The  Hackney  

The  Carriage  Horse 


CHAPTER  IX. 
Hints  as  to  Management. 


Page 
..  34 
. . 36 
..  39 
..  40 


The  Cleveland  Bay 
The  Clyderdale  — 

The  Flemish 

The  Suffolk  Punch, 


CHAPTER  X. 

Notes  on  Stable  Management — Water 


Grooming  and  Dias  sing 


CHAPTER  XI. 


A Few  Words  to  Farmers 


CHAPTER  XII. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Hints  about  Breeding — Advice  as  to  Foaling  Time. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Breaking  or  Training 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Feeding  and  General  Management 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Horse- Taming  and  its  Secrets  

CHAPTER  XVII. 
Vices  a»  j their  Remedy 


Paoe 
..  40 
. . ib. 
..  41 
..  42 


43 


44 

47 

48 


63 


66 


69 

69 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


Diseases  or  the  Hors* 


HORSES; 

THEIR  VARIETIES,  MANAGEMENT. 

ETC.  ETC. 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODU  CTORY. 

Of  all  animals  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  the  Horse  is, 
perhaps.,  the  most  calculated  to  impress  the  beholder  with  admira- 
tion, and  of  all  quadrupeds,  probably  presents,  in  his  aspect,  the 
most  perfect  symmetry  of  form,  and  adaptation  of  part  to  part; 
his  arched  neck,  his  Hashing  eye,  his  expanded  and  almost  trans- 
parent nostril,  his  flowing  mane  and  his  gallant  crest,  his  wavy  tail 
and  his  powerful  quarters — -all  so  many  points  of  grandeur  and 
beauty,  that  cannot  fal  of  arousing  the  admiration  and  sympathies 
of  even  the  most  insensible  beholder. 


8 


HORSES. 


We  even  consider  that  the  graces  of  his  external  conformation 
bear  but  a secondary  proportion  to  those  inner  qualities  of  disposi- 
tion and  sagacity,  which  it  but  requires  a brief  acquaintance  with 
this  truly  splendid  creature  to  appreciate.  We  are  disposed  to 
rank  the  horse  next  to  the  dog  in  the  scale  of  intelligence,  and 
would  refer  any  exceptions  that  may  occasionally  present  them- 
selves, to  early  bad  management,  or  to  hereditary  vice. 

The  experience  of  each  and  all  of  our  readers  will  suggest  to 
them  an  enumeration  of  this  noble  servant’s  valuable  qualities. 
On  the  utility  of  the  horse  to  man  it  is  unnecessary  to  dilate  ; his 
services  in  war,  in  the  chase,  in  travel,  and  last,  but  by  no  means 
least,  in  agriculture,  are  familiar  to  all,  and  have  been  experienced 
by  man  in  every  portion  of  the  known  world. 

The  generic  character  of  the  horse  is — twelve  fore-teeth,  the 
upper  six  erect  and  parallel,  lower  six  more  prominent ; tusks,  soli- 
tary and  remote ; teats  inguinal,  and  two  in  number ; breathes 
solely  through  the  nostrils,  not  through  the  mouth  ; fights  by  biting 
and  kicking.  The  horse  belongs  to  the  class  mammalia,  and  genus 
(ninth  of  Cuvier’s  sixth  order)  pachydermata.  Cuvier’s  characters 
of  this  order  are  as  follow  1 — Skin  very  thick,  whence  the  name  of 
the  order  ; some  of  the  genera  partially  without  teeth,  others  with 
three  sorts  of  teeth ; quadrupedal,  usually  with  hoofs ; toes  vary- 
ing in  number  ; stomach  simple  ; do  not  ruminate ; have  no  cla- 
vicles ; are  inhabitants  of  the  temperate  or  torrid  zones. 

The  genus  equus  contains  six  species,  and  is  thus  defined  by 
Cuvier  : — Six  incisors  in  each  jaw,  two  canines,  and  six  molar  or 
cheek  teeth,  furrowed  on  both  sides,  with  flat  crowns,  and  several 
ridges  of  enamel.  Between  the  cheek  and  canines  is  a void  space 
on  each  side,  known  to  veterinarians  as  the  “ Bars.”  The  upper 
lip  is  susceptible  of  considerable  motion  ; eyes  large,  pupil  oblong, 
ovate,  placed  laterally  ; sight  extremely  good ; ears  small,  pointed, 
and  erect,  possessing  great  mobility,  which  renders  the  hearing 
very  acute ; feet,  possessing  but  one  apparent  toe,  covered  with  a 
thick  hoof ; tail  furnished  with  long  hair,  or  with  a tuft  at  its  ex- 
tremity ; two  teats,  or  mammae,  inguinal ; stomach  simple  and 
membranaceous  ; intestines  and  caecum  very  large. 

Much  has  been  written  as  to  the  original  habitat , or  the  first 
great  breeding  country  of  the  horse.  Arabia  and  Egypt  are  the 
rival  claimants  ; popular  opinion  has  long  been  in  favor  of  the 
former,  but  these  pages  not  being  suited  to  a lengthened  discus- 
sion of  the  question,  we  may  just  state,  that,  beyond  any  doubt, 


THE  HORSES  OF  ASIA. 


9 


the  latter  (Egypt)  is  entitled  to  the  h jnor.  One  fact,  out  of  many, 
may  be  adduced  on  either  side.  In  the  sacred  writings,  when  de- 
scribing the  very  earliest  stages  of  the  world,  we  find  the  horse  in 
extensive  use  in  Egypt ; while,  in  comparatively  modem  times, 
when  Mahomet  attacked  the  Koreish,  we  find  not  a single  horse  in 
the  entire  camp — showing  how  scarce,  even  at  so  late  a period, 
were  horses  in  Arabia,  and  how  plenty,  at  so  early  a one,  they 
were  in  Egypt.  There  is,  of  course,  no  question  but  that  Arabia 
subsequently  became  a great  horse  depot,  and  that  in  that  country 
this  animal  attained  to  a very  high  degree  of  perfection ; for,  in 
point  of  fact,  it  is  to  the  introduction  of  Arabian  blood  that  the 
blood-horses  of  the  British  Island^  owe  their  present  eminent  posi- 
tion, maintaining,  as  they  do,  an  undisputed  superiority  over  all 
others. 

It  is  proper  that  we  furnish,  in  the  first  instance,  a brief  view  of 
the  principal  breeds  or  stocks,  as  at  present  known,  before  entering 
upon  either  treatment  or  diseases,  and  this  necessity  will  become 
the  more  obvious,  when  it  will  be  recollected  that,  as  a matter  of 
course,  different  varieties  present  different  modifications  of  form,  of 
disposition,  of  constitution,  and  are  also  suitable,  some  to  one  pur- 
pose, and  some  to  another.  We  shall  commence  with  the  exotic 
varieties,  and  shall  dismiss  them  with  as  brief  consideration  as  pos- 
sible, in  order  that  we  may  have  the  more  space  for  full  details 
relative  to  our  own. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  HORSES  OF  ASIA. 

The  Arabian  Horse. — In  Arabia  the  horse  runs  wild,  and  is, 
even  in  that  feral  and  uncultivated  state,  a creature  of  the  most 
exquisite  beauty  of  form,  and  endowed  with  the  greatest  mildness 
and  generosity  of  disposition.  In  size  these  animals  are  small, 
usually  averaging  between  thirteen  and  fourteen  hands  high. 
Their  color  is  usually  a dappled  grey,  but  sometimes  a dark  brown, 
with  short  and  black  mane  and  tail.  They  are  caught  in  snares 
carefully  concealed  in  the  sand,  by  which  the  feet  are  entangled, 
and  the  terrified  horse,  falling  to  the  ground,  is  easily  captured. 
This  is  the  only  mode  by  which  thev  can  be  taken,  their  amazing 
1* 


10 


HORSES. 


swiftness  rendering  all  -idea  of  chasing  them  with  dogs,  or  on 
horseback,  utterly  out  of  the  question.  The  wild  Arabs  are  now 
nearly  extinct,  the  high  price  given  for  Arabian  horses  having  in- 
duced the  natives  to  draw  largely  and  constantly  upon  the  resources 
of  the  desert.  To  the  wandering  Arab  the  horse  is  of  the  greatest 
value.  The  poorest  Bedouin  has  his  steed,  which  shares  with  him 
and  his  wife  and  children  the  shelter  of  his  humble  tent,  his 
caresses,  and  his  scanty  fare.  Oft  may  the  traveler  in  the  desert, 
on  entering  within  the  folds  of  a tent,  behold  the  interesting  spec- 
tacle of  a magnificent  courser  extended  upon  the  ground,  and 
some  half  dozen  little  dark-skinned,  naked  urchins,  scrambling 
across  her  body,  or  reclining  in  sleep,  some  upon  her  neck,  some 
on  her  carcass,  and  others  pillowed  upon  her  heels ; nor  do  the 
children  ever  experience  injury  from  their  gentle  playmate ; she 
recognizes  them  as  the  family  of  her  friend,  her  patron  ; and  to- 
wards them  all  the  natural  sweetness  of  her  disposition  leans,  even 
to  overflowing.  The  Arabs  invariably  keep  mares  in  preference  to 
horses  ; they  find  them  endure  fatigue,  and  the  privations  necessa- 
rily consequent  upon  a journey  over  the  desert,  better ; a number 
of  them  can  also  be  kept  together  without  danger  of  their  quar- 
reling or  injuring  each  other  : on  this  account  it  is  very  difficult, 
indeed,  to  induce  an  Arab  to  sell  his  mare.  The  Arab  is  particu- 
larly careful  of  his  horse’s  coat ; he  washes  the  legs,  tail,  and  nos- 
trils, regularly,  morning  and  evening,  or  again  after  a long  ride ; 
the  mane  and  tail  are  left  in  their  natural  state,  and  very  seldom 
even  combed,  lest  they  might  be  thinned.  The  animals  are  fed 
only  during  the  night,  and  from  morning  to  evening  they  get 
nothing  but  one  or  two  drinks  of  water.  From  sunrise  to  sunset 
they  are  kept,  ready  saddled,  standing  at  the  door  of  the  tent. 

The  Arabs  carefully  preserve  the  pedigree  of  their  horses,  and 
divide  them  into  classes,  or  castes.  The  most  noble  of  these  can, 
it  is  said,  be  traced  back  to  the  steeds  on  which  Mahomet  and  his 
companions  rode  the  night  of  the  memorable.  “ Hegira.”  The 
mare  is,  as  we  have  stated,  almost  unpurchasable,  there  being,  in- 
deed, a law  prohibiting  her  exportation  ; and  the  horse  is  only  to 
be  obtained  at  the  most  enormous  prices — one  thousand  pounds 
not  being  extraordinary,  and  instances  being  on  record  of  mares 
having  gone  to  double  that  money.  We  conclude  with  a brief 
description  of  the  appearance  of  the  pure  Arabian,  as  found  in  a 
domesticated  state,  and  we  conceive  this  the  more  necessary,  as  so 
many  spurious  Arabs  are  frequently  endeavored  to  be  palmed  upon 


THE  HORSES  OF  ASIA. 


11 


the  unwaiy  or  inexperienced.  Below  we  give  a portrait  of  the 
celebrated  Wellesley  Arabian. 


WELLESLEY  ARABIAN. 

The  thoroughbred  Arab  never  exceeds  fifteen  hands,  and  rarely 
fourteen  hands  and  a-half  in  height.  The  skin  is  pure  black,  or 
blue-black,  a circumstance  which  gives  to  a white  horse  of  this 
breed  that  beautiful  silvery  grey  color,  so  indicative  of  the  purest 
blood ; brown,  bay,  and  chestnut,  are  good  colors,  but  it  has  long 
been  remarked  in  India,  that  no  dark-grey  ho?'se  was  ever  a winner 
upon  the  turf. 

The  head  of  the  pure  Arab  is  light,  clean  made,  wide  between 
the  nostrils,  broad  in  the  forehead,  short  and  fine  in  the  muzzle, 
nostrils  expanded  and  transparent,  eyes  prominent  and  sparkling, 
ears  small  and  neatly  set  on,  neck  rather  short,  shoulder  high  and 
well  thrown  back,  the  shoulder-blade,  indeed,  inclining  backwards 
nearly  forty-five  degrees ; withers  high  and  arched  ; legs  fine,  flat, 
and  small-boned ; body  somewhat  light,  but  showing  substance 
wherever  it  is  really  wanted  ; the  chest,  for  instance,  has  frequently 
been  objected  to  as  being  too  confined,  but  a less  cursory  examina- 
tion will  discover,  that  although  apparently  narrow,  at  a front  view, 
it  swells  out  behind  the  arm,  to  a remarkable  degree,  thus  affording 
ample  room  fd  r the  play  of  the  lungs.  The  hind  quarters  are  set 


12 


HORSES. 


on  somewhat  obliquely ; but  from  the  extreme  hardness  of  the 
bone,  which  enables  it  to  endure  the  additional  strain  thus  induced, 
this  formation,  far  from  detracting  from  the  animal’s  strength, 
rather  has  a contrary  effect,  and  to  this  peculiarity  of  conforma- 
tion is  the  extraordinary  speed  possessed  by  the  Arabian  horse 
mainly  attributable.  As  a racer,  on  a regular  course,  the  Arab 
lias  never,  to  my  knowledge,  been  afforded  a fair  opportunity  of 
competing  with  our  own  blood-horses ; such  as  have  been  thus 
tried  having  always  been  animals  of  an  inferior  stamp,  and  the 
natural  consequence  has  been,  their  invariable  defeat. 

Persian  Horse. — In  general  appearance  this  horse  resembles 
the  Arab,  and  though,  in  most  respects,  less  esteemed  than  that 
animal,  he  is  in  some  points  his  superior.  This  horse  stands 
somewhat  taller  than  the  Arab,  is  full  of  bone,  and  very  fast ; 
that  peculiarity,  “ ewe-neck,”  so  indicative  of  very  high  breeding, 
is  very  common.  Like  the  Arab,  these  horses  are  fed,  cleaned, 
and  watered,  only  at  sunrise  and  sunset ; their  food  is  coarse  and 
scant.  Hay  is  unknown  as  a horse-diet  in  Persia ; the  usual  diet 
is  barley  and  chopped  straw,  which,  when  the  horse  is  picquetted, 
is  put  into  a nose-bag ; but,  when  fed  in  a stable,  is  put  into  a 
hole,  left  for  that  purpose  in  a mud-built  wall,  much  higher  up, 
however,  than  our  mangers  usually  are.  His  sole  bedding  con- 
sists of  his  dung,  which  becomes  pulverized  by  the  day’s  sun,  and 
at  night  is  spread  out  under  him  ; his  body,  however,  being  inva- 
riably covered  with  clothing,  varied  in  quality  according  to  the 
season,  never  touches  this  bedding,  which  therefore  can  benefit  the 
horse  only  by  its  softness. 

The  Tartarian  Horse  resembles  the  Persian  in  his  swiftness ; 
but  there  the  resemblance,  to  a considerable  extent,  ceases.  These 
horses  are  heavy-headed,  very  low  in  the  shoulder,  awkwardly 
made,  and,  altogether,  ill-looking  brutes.  In  the  wilds  of  Tar- 
tary, however,  are  still  some  coursers  to  be  met  with  which  are 
yet  ignorant  of  the  spur,  and  upon  whose  neck  bridle  has  never 
yet  hung,  whose  forms  would  almost  give  the  lie  to  our  descrip- 
tion ; and  in  Little  Tartary,  the  natives  possess  a breed  so  highly 
esteemed,  that  they  have  entered  into  a compact  not  to  sell  any 
of  them  to  strangers  or  foreigners.  The  Tartars  eat  the  flesh  of 
their  horses,  and  use  the  milk  of  the  mare,  from  which  they  also 
make  excellent  cheese.  From  mares’  milk  the  Bashkirs  make  a 
kind  of  wine,  called  “ Kumiss ,”  the  nutritious  qualities  of  which 
are  of  a very  high  order. 


THE  HORSES  OF  ASIA. 


13 


The  Turkoman  Horse  is  a variety  of  the  Tartar,  l ut  superior. 
It  is  held  in  high  estimation,  and  will,  even  in  Persia,  frequently 
fetch  so  high  a price  as  from  one  to  two  hundred  pounds.  The 
average  height  of  these  horses  is  fifteen  hands,  and,  in  their  gene- 
ral shape  and  appearance,  they  bear  no  distant  resemblance  to  a 
well-bred  English  carriage  horse.  They  are  possessed  of  very 
considerable  speed,  but  are  not  enduring,  from  being  too  small  in 
the  barrel , and  too  leggy.  This  breed  is  one  of  those  occasionally 
used  by  crafty  Asiatics  to  be  palmed  off"  on  English  speculators  as 
the  Arabian. 

The  Turkish  Horse  is  of  slender  make,  carries  his  head  high, 
is  full  of  life  and  fire,  and  possesses  a most  docile  and  affectionate 
disposition.  In  his  form  and  character  he  demonstrates  his  de- 
scent, viz.,  a cross  between  Persian  and  Arabian,  or  perhaps  Barb. 
The  Turkish  horses  have  long  been  celebrated  for  their  docility  and 
gentleness,  and  they  are  treated  with  the  utmost  kindness  by  their 
masters  and  grooms. 

The  tail  of  the  horse  is,  in  Turkey,  regarded  as  a mark  of  dig- 
nity, and  is,  both  in  that  country  and  in  Persia,  employed  as  an 
emblem  of  station,  and  princes  measure  their  rank  by  the  number 
of  tails  they  carry.  The  origin  of  this  custom  is  as  follows  : — The 
Turkish  army  at  one  time  lost  its  standard  in  a battle,  and  a gal- 
lant leader,  in  order  to  inspire  the  faltering  spirits  of  his  men,  cut 
off  the  tail  from  a slain  charger,  and  hoisting  it  aloft  on  the  point 
of  a javelin,  rallied  his  soldiers,  once  again  brought  them  to  the 
charge,  and  gained  a victory  over  the  enemy.  From  this  he  re- 
ceived a corresponding  military  distinction,  whence  originated 
“ Pachas  of  Tails.”  Those  of  the  highest  ranks  are  invested  with 
three  tails. 

The  Horses  of  Hindostan. — The  climate  of  India  does  not 
appear  to  be  congenial  to  the  constitution  of  the  horse,  and  that 
animal  is  invariably  found  to  degenerate,  unless  the  breed  be,  from 
time  to  time,  carefully  regenerated  and  sustained  by  judicious 
crossing.  The  most  genuine  native  breed,  or,  in  other  words,  that 
which  has  been  least  affected  by  improvement , is  called  the  “ Tazee.” 

The  Tazee  is,  as  ordinarily  known,  a small,  ill-made,  and  ugly 
beast — equally  deficient  in  spirit  and  in  form.  This  is  not,  how- 
ever, the  character  of  the  original  race,  a bold,  spirited,  and  hand- 
some animal,  and  so  fiery  as  to  require  a bold  rider.  Of  this  race 
are  the  “ Serissahs,”  of  the  North  * Bahar,  of  which  upwards  of 
twenty  thousand  are  sold  at  the  annual  fairs.  Between  the  Tazee 


14 


HORSES. 


and  the  Persian  a mixed  race  is  bred,  called  in  India  the  Magin- 
nie.  There  are  several  other  Hindoo  breeds  ; but  as  it  is  a matter 
of  notoriety  that  not  one  remains  the  same  for  three  generations 
— being  constantly  crossed  and  re-crossed — it  appears  to  me  un- 
necessary to  enumerate  them.  We  may,  however,  just  name  a 
few  of  the  best  known  : — 

Such  are  the  Takan — strong,  powerful  animals ; natural  am- 
blers, and  hence  in  much  esteem  for  the  use  of  ladies. 

Folarce  breed. — A variety  of  Takan ; tall,  but  spiritless. 

Catch. — Remarkable  for  the  suddenness  with  which  the  withers 
drop,  as  if  a portion  of  the  vertical  ridge  of  the  spine  had  been 
cut  away  ; hence  difficult  to  fit  with  a saddle. 

Dattywarr. — Superior  in  blood  to  any  of  the  preceding  ; usually 
dun-colored,  striped  like  a zebra.  When  thus  marked  it  compete* 
va  value  with  the  Arabian. 


CHAPTER  IH. 

THE  AFRICAN  RACES. 

The  principal  African  race  is  that  known  under  the  name  of 
Barb.  This  horse  exceeds  the  Arabian  in  stature,  and  is  remark- 
able for  the  height  and  fulness  of  his  shoulders,  drooping  of  the 
haunches,  and  roundness  of  the  barrel.  The  Barb  does  not  fetch 
so  high  a price  in  his  own  country  as  the  Arab,  and  he  is  hence 
frequently  imported,  and  fraudulently  passed  off  on  purchasers  as 
that  animal. 

On  the  opposite  page  we  give  a portrait  of  that  remarkable 
horse,  the  G-odolphin  Barb ; sometimes  erroneously  called  the  Go- 
dolphin  Arabian. 

Amongst  the  most  excellent  of  the  African  varieties  of  horse, 
we  may  name  the  celebrated  “ Shrubat-ul-reech,”  or  “ Drinkers  of 
the  wind,”  in  possession  of  the  Maugrabin  tribes,  shaped  like  grey- 
hounds, wiry  and  flesliless.  Mr.  Davidson  relates  of  one  of  these, 
having  performed  a journey  of  sixty  miles,  under  a burning  sun, 
at  the  hottest  period  of  an  African  day,  without  the  rider  once 
drawing  bridle.  The  Arabs  ride  mares  only,  for  they  chiefly  rely 
on  stealing  unawares  upon  their  foes ; the  Africans  rely  on  force 
alone,  and  consequently  ride- the  horse , on  account  of  his  superior 


THE  AFRICAN  RACES. 


15 


power.  Were  the  Arabs  to  ride  horses,  the  moment  they  came 
within  scent  of  the  hostile  camp,  their  steeds  would  betray  every- 
thing by  neighing. 

Towards  the  central  parts  of  Africa  we  find  the  Bornou  race, 
extolled  by  Mr.  Sully  as  “ possessed  of  the  qualities  of  the  Arab- 


GODOLPHIN  ARABIAN. 

ian,  with  the  beauty  of  the  Barb  ; they  are  fine  in  shoulder,  and 
of  general  elegance  of  form.”  The  horses  of  Nubia  are  stated  by 
the  celebrated  traveler,  Bruce,  to  be  far  superior  to  the  Arabian, 
and  trace  their  pedigrees  from  five  stocks ; all  the  horses  ridden  by 
Mahomet  and  his  four  companions — Abubeker,  Omar,  Osman,  and 
Ali — in  their  flight  on  the  night  since  designated  as  “ A1  Hegira.” 

The  little  kingdom  of  Dongola,  or  Donkala,  possesses  a remark- 
able breed  of  horses  of  a large  size,  their  chief  characteristics  being- 
great  shortness  of  body,  length  of  neck,  height  of  crest,  and  a 
beautiful  forehand.  Bosman  pronounces  them  to  be  “ the  most 
beautiful  in  the  World.”  These  horses  have  been  imported  into 
England,  but  their  progeny  have  never  in  any  instance  turned  out 
well. 

Egypt  has  long  lost  its  character  as  a breeding  country,  and  its 
horses  are  deservedly  held  much  inferior  to  those  of  either  Persia, 
Barbary,  or  Arabia. 


10 


HORSES. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  HORSES  OF  AMERICA. 

In  many  parts  of  the  southern  portion  of  this  vast  continent, 
are  still  to  be  met  with  innumerable  herds  of  wild  horses,  and 
many  such  are  also  to  be  found  about  the  back  settlements  of  its 
northern,  portion  ; both,  however,  evidently  the  descendants  of  do- 
mestic horses,  that  accidental  causes  have  driven  to  a feral  condi- 
tion. These  herds  appear  to  act  in  admirable  concert,  and  by 
their  united  force  defy  the  attacks  of  the  various  ferocious  animals 
who  share  with  them  the  possession  of  the  wilderness.  Nor  are 
they  formidable  only  to  these  equally  savage  denizens  of  the  prai- 
rie : the  traveller,  if  incautious  in  approaching  them,  will  too  dearly 
rue  his  temerity  or  ignorance,  and  a meeting  with  such  a herd  of 
untamed  coursers  has  often  proved  to  be  anything  but  desirable. 
When  a traveller  with  laden  horses  encounters  one  of  these  wild 
herds,  even  should  he  personally  escape  attack,  his  horses,  if  they 
can  by  any  means  shake  off  their  burdens,  will  break  away  and 
join  their  fortunes  with  those  of  their  emancipated  brethren.  When 
it  is  deemed  desirable  to  capture  these  horses,  the  natives  employ 
a long  leathern  noose  called  the  lasso.  They  never  take  the  mares , 
nor  even  ride  them  ; and  it  is  related  of  an  Englishman,  attempt- 
ing once  to  do  so  in  that  country,  being  hooted  and  pelted  by  the 
natives  to  such  an  extent  as  narrowly  to  escape  with  life. 

The  horses  of  North  America  are  somewhat  more  hardy,  more 
inured  to  slavery,  and  are  much  valued  by  the  Indian  natives,  who 
use  them  in  hunting,  in  war,  and  in  travel.  The  acquisition  of  the 
horse  must  have  proved  a great  boon  to  the  wandering  savage, 
and  he  is  recognized  as  such,  to  so  great  an  extent,  indeed,  that 
the  felony  of  the  horses  of  a hostile  tribe  is  conceived  to  be  as 
heroic  an  action  as  the  taking  of  their  masters’  scalps. 

The  horses  of  the  Canadas  are,  as  might  be  expected,  principally 
of  French  descent,  and  from  this  stock  have  sprung  many  of  the 
celebrated  American  “ trotting  phenomena.”  The  horses  of  the 
United  States  are  crossed  with  a great  variety  of  breeds,  amongst 
which  the  English  is  predominant.  The  Americans  are  now  ex- 
erting themselves  strenuously  for  the  improvement  of  their  horses  ; 
and,  amongst  other  efforts,  we  are  not  to  overlook  the  establish- 
ment of  horse-races  in  various  states,  particularly  in  the  southern 


EUROPEAN  HORSES. 


17 


ones  ; and  in  these  have  been,  as  a matter  of  course,  adopted  tho 
customs  common  to  the  turf  of  Britain. 

The  horses  of  the  West  Indian  Islands  not  unnaturally  present 
themselves  to  our  notice  in  connection  with  those  of  America. 
They  are  chiefly  the  breeds  of  the  states  to  which  each  island  more 
narticularly  belongs.  The  horses  of  Cuba  especially  betray,  in  a 
manner  too  apparent  for  any  mistake,  their  Spanish  origin ; and 
.hose  of  the  British  colonies,  on  the  other  hand,  present  marked 
evidence  of  owing  much  of  their  blood  to  the  mother-country. 

The  Americans  have,  from  time  to  time,  imported  first-rate 
English  blood  for  the  improvement  of  their  stock,  and  the  proge- 
ny of  many  homes  of  celebrity  is  yet  to  be  met  with  in  many  por- 
tions of  “ the  States,”  especially  Virginia,  Kentucky,  and  the 
Jerseys.  Amongst  these  were,  “Shark,”  a horse  seldom  equalled, 
and  decidedly  the  star  of  his  day. 


CHAPTER  V. 

EUROPEAN  HORSES AS  PARTICULARLY  REPRESENTED  BY  THOSE  OP 

THE  BRITISH  ISLANDS. 

We  now  arrive  at  the  history  of  the  horse  in  the  British  islands, 
and  his  progression,  alteration,  and  improvement,  from  the  earliest 
periods  of  which  any  authentic  records  remain,  up  to  the  present 
time. 

The  first  mention  that  we  meet  with  of  the  history  of  the  horses 
of  England,  is  the  era  of  the  invasion  of  England  by  the  Romans, 
under  the  command  of  Julius  Caesar ; and  they  are  mentioned  by 
him  in  his  “ Commentaries”  in  laudatory  terms,  speaking  highly 
at  the  same  time,  of  the  skill  displayed  by  those  who  managed 
them.  These  observations  prove  that  the  horse  must  have  been 
long  familiar  to  the  natives  of  Great  Britain,  as  when  in  a state  of 
barbarism,  almost  amounting  to  savageness,  they  had  acquired  so 
perfect  a mastery  over  it.  Even  at  this  time,  too,  it  would  appear 
that  the  Britons  had  commenced  the  use  of  gorgeous  and  orna- 
mental housings,  and  military  trappings.  We  are  unable  to  form 
even  a remote  guess  at  the  source  whence  our  ancestors  derived 
this  valuable  animal,  or  point  out  any  modern  variety  of  horse  as 
having  sprung  from,  or  as  retaining  any  resemblance  to  the  pri- 


18 


HORSES. 


mitive  stock.  §>ome  have  referred  to  the  rough  ai.d  diminutive 
shelties  of  Scotland,  to  the  hobbies  of  Ireland,  or  the  mountain- 
ponies  of  Wales  and  Cornwall ; but  if  so,  these  animals  must  have 
greatly  altered  in  form  and  stature,  for,  however  well,  as  Pennanc 
so  justly  observes,  “ they  may  answer  the  purposes  of  these 
countries — they  could  never  have  been  equal  to  the  work  of  war.1 
We  conceive  the  opinion  of  the  late  Mr.  Youatt  to  approach  th« 
truth  more  nearly  than  any  with  which  we  have  met ; he  con- 
ceives the  horse  to  be  “ then  as  ever,  the  creature  of  the  country 
in  which  he  lives.  With  short  fare,  and  exposed  to  the  rigor  ot 
the  seasons,  he  was  probably  the  little  hardy  thing  which  we  yet 
see  him  ; but  in  the  marshes  of  the  Nen  and  the  Witham,  and  on 
the  borders  of  the  Tee  and  the  Clyde,  there  would  be  as  much 
proportionate  development  of  frame  and  strength  as  we  find  at 
the  present  day.”  It  is  certain  that  the  horses  of  Britain,  in  the 
time  of  Caesar,  were  powerful  and  active,  for  the  war-chariots  were 
of  a heavy  and  clumsy  description  ; and  the  roads,  if  roads  they 
could  be  called,  unformed,  and  only  passable  by  the  exercise  of  no 
ordinary  power ; that  these  animals  were  valuable  we  learn  from 
the  fact,  that  Caesar  carried  back  several  to  Rome  ; and  from  the 
circumstance  that  they  were  for  a considerable  time  afterwards  in 
much  esteem  throughout  various  parts  of  the  Roman  empire.  Of 
the  numbers  of  this  animal  then  kept  in  Britain,  we  may  form 
some  idea,  from  the  circumstance  that  the  British  king  Cassibellan, 
in  disbanding  the  main  portion  of  his  army,  retained  four  thousand 
horse,  for  the  purposes  of  forage  and  harassing  the  Romans. 
About  this  period  the  Romans,  finding  it  necessary  to  employ  ac- 
tive measures  in  order  to  maintain  a secure  position  in  the  country 
they  had  just  conquered,  deemed  it  advisable  to  garrison  it  strongly, 
and  consequently,  acting  on  this  resolution,  they  sent  into  Britain 
a considerable  force,  amongst  which  was  a powerful  body  of  ca- 
valry : this,  of  course,  gave  rise  to  a union  of  the  foreign  breeds 
with  those  of  the  country  into  which  they  were  introduced,  and 
this  was,  in  all  probability,  the  first  cross  to  which  our  British 
horses  had  been  subjected ; nor  was  this  cross  to  be  regarded 
merely  as  one  with  the  Roman  horse.  That  powerful  nation  had 
already  established  intimate  relations  with  their  various  neighbors, 
and  horses  from  many  different  parts  of  the  then  known  world, 
must  have  formed  the  component  parts  of  the  Roman  cavalry. 
Whether  any  improvement  in  our  British  horses  is  to  be  attributed 
to  the  Roman  conquest  is,  however,  at  best  questionable. 


EUROPEAN  HORSES. 


19 


The  Anglo-Saxon  conquest,  doubtless,  introduced  a variety  of 
.other  breeds  of  horses  into  England,  some  of  which,  especially  the 
Frisonic  and  Danish,  were  animals  of  no  inconsiderable  beauty  and 
stature,  and  consequently,  well  calculated  to  improve  our  own. 

From  the  Roman  invasion  until  several  centuries  afterwards,  we 
do  not  find  any  record,  or  any  mention  of  the  horse  in  Britain, 
until  the  year  631,  when  we  find  the  commencement  of  the  use  of 
the  saddle  mentioned  by  the  Venerable  Bede,  who  states  that  pre- 
lates and  other  dignified  persons,  who  had,  until  then,  been  obliged 
to  go  on  foot,  now  rode  on  horseback.  It  is  further  stated,  that 
the  dignitaries  of  the  church  always  used  the  mare,  and  not  the 
horse,  as  a mark  of  their  humility. 

King  Alfred,  of  learned  and  pious  memory,  the  hero  of  many  a 
tale  of  valor  and  romance,  exerted  himself  in  the  laudable  work  of 
improving  the  indigenous  breeds  of  horses,  and  that  these  inten- 
tions should  be  the  better  carried  out,  an  office  was  created  for  the 
occasion,  this  officer  was  called  Horsethane.  Athelstane,  son  of 
Alfred,  who  reigned  at  950  years  after  the  landing  of  the  Romans, 
devoted  much  attention  to  the  subject  of  improvement ; and  so 
jealous  was  he  of  neighboring  nations  profiting  by  his  exertions, 
that  he  prohibited  strictly  the  exportation  of  horses,  unless  design- 
ed as  presents.  These  enactments  furnish  the  inference,  that  our 
horses  were  then  valuable,  and  that  their  value  was  duly  appreci- 
ated by  foreigners. 

Although  Athelstane  did  not  choose  that  foreigners  should  im- 
prove their  horses  by  his  means,  he  appeal's  to  have  had  no  objec- 
tion to  avail  himself  of  whatever  advantages  they  possessed  in  this 
respect,  for  we  hear  of  him  accepting  a present  from  Hugh  Le 
Grand,  King  of  France,  father  of  the  celebrated  Hugh  Capet,  and 
the  then  suitor  of  his  sister,  Ethilda,  daughter  of  Edward,  subse- 
quently Athelstane’s  brother-in-law.  Mr.  Youatt  has  stated  this 
present  to  have  come  from  Hugh  Capet  himself ; and,  from  the 
reading  of  the  paragraph,  we  suspect  that  he  derived  his  informa- 
tion from  the  much  prior  work  of  our  own  personal  and  respected 
friend,  Captain  Thomas  Brown.  Both  gentlemen,  however,  were 
in  this  instance,  incorrect.  Athelstane  valued  these  and  other 
presents  of  foreign  horses  highly  ; and  in  his  will  he  made  a caxe- 
ml  testamentary  disposition  of  them,  particularizing  the  several 
presents,  “Those  given  him  by  Thurbrand,  together  with  the 
horses  given  him  by  Lief  brand.”  These  persons  were  Saxons , 
so  it  is  probable  that  these  were  Saxon  horses  ; but  besides  these, 


20 


HORSES. 


we  find  it  related  that  “ sundry  princes  sought  his  alliance  and 
friendship,  and  sent  him  rich  presents,  precious  stones,  perfumes, 
and  the  finest  horses , with  golden  furniture?  The  horses  sent  this 
monarch  by  the  French  long  are  stated  to  have  been  “ German 
running  horses” 

In  a document  bearing  date  a.d.  1000  there  is  a curious  account 
of  the  value  of  horses  in  those  days.  If  a horse  were  destroyed, 
or  lost  through  negligence,  the  compensation  to  which  the  owner 
was  declared  to  be  legally  entitled,  was  thirty  shillings ; a mare  or 
colt,  twenty  shillings ; a wild,  or  untrained  mare,  sixty  pence ; a 
mule  or  ass,  twelve  shillings  ; an  ox,  thirty  pence  ; a cow,  twenty- 
four  pence  ; a pig,  eight  pence  ; and  a man,  one  pound  ! — a strange 
valuation,  truly,  as  placing  the  value  of  human  life  one-third  infe- 
rior to  that  of  a horse.  The  Anglo-Saxons  calculated  at  forty- 
eight  shillings  to  the  pound — equal  in  silver  to  about  three  pounds 
of  our  own  money  ; and  five  pence  were  equivalent  to  a shilling. 
Howell  dha , who  lived  a short  time  previous,  had  enacted  laws 
restricting  the  price  of  horses,  as  well  as  establishing  certain  regu- 
lations relative  to  this  description  of  traffic,  designed  to  prevent 
fraud : so  early  had  jockeying  not  only  commenced,  but  become  no- 
torious in  horse-dealing. 

William  The  Conqueror , brought  many  horses  with  him  from 
Normandy , and  thus  contributed,  in  no  small  degree,  not  only  to 
the  number  of  varieties  known  amongst  us,  but  to  the  positive  im- 
provement of  those  which  we  already  possessed.  It  is  probable, 
also,  that  the  horses  imported  by  William  were  not  confined  to  the 
French  varieties  alone,  but  were  brought  from  other  countries  also ; 
for  his  own  favorite  charger,  ridden  by  him  at  the  celebrated  and 
eventful  battle  of  Hastings,  was  a Spanish  horse ; and  it  is  the 
general  impression  of  historians,  that  to  his  cavalry  William  was 
mainly  indebted  for  his  success  on  that  memorable  occasion. 
Roger  de  Belesme,  also,  afterwards  created  Earl  of  Shrewsbury  by 
the  victorious  monarch,  introduced  several  Spanish  horses  into  the 
kingdom,  especially  into  his  own  estate  of  Powisland.  Beranger, 
on  what  authority  I know  not,  describes  these  horses  as  having 
been  of  a class  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  “ purposes  of  war,  and  the 
exhibitions  of  public  assemblies,  of  which  horses  are  always  a very 
essential  and  ornamental  part ; for  it  is  not  known  that  at  this 
time,  nor  till  a much  later  period,  that  horse-races  were  introduced 
into  England,  although  this  agreeable  and  useful  diversion,  if  con- 
fined within  certain  regulations,  might  have  been  cultivated  with 


EUROPEAN  HORSES. 


21 


great  propriety  among  a people  fond  and  proud  of  their  horses, 
and  that  at  a time  when  bodily  exercises  alone  were  the  amuse- 
ments of  all  sorts  of  men  ; and  especially  as  the  English  had  oppor- 
tunities of  being  instructed  in  them  by  the  Romans,  who  generally 
brought  their  own  customs  with  them  wherever  they  came,  and 
left  their  impression  behind  them  when  they  departed.  We  may, 
therefore,  reasonably  conclude,  that  they  were  either  ignorant  of 
these  sports,  or,  what  is  more  likely,  preferred  the  parade  and 
magnificence  of  tilts  and  tournaments,  in  which  the  strength,  ac- 
tivity, spirit,  -and  beauty  of  the  horse,  as  well  as  the  skill  and  cour- 
age of  the  rider,  could  be  more  usefully  employed,  and  more  grace- 
fully displayed.” 

It  may  be  interesting  to  our  agricultural  readers  to  learn  that, 
until  a comparatively  recent  period,  we  find  no  record  of  the  horse 
having  been  employed  to  draw  the  plow,  oxen  alone  being  used 
for  that  purpose ; and  we  find  a law  enacted  in  or  about  the  latter 
end  of  the  twelfth  century,  prohibiting  the  me  of  horses  in  the  plow. 
This,  we  think,  proves  that  some  change  in  agricultural  matters 
was  even  then  commencing ; and  we  have  likewise,  a piece  of  tapestry, 
woven  at  this  period,  of  that  description  known  as  “Bayeux  tapestry,” 
a representation  of  a man  driving  a horse  in  a harrow.  This  is,  I 
think,  the  earliest  notice  which  we  have  of  horses  having  been  em- 
ployed in  field  labor. 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  I.,  in  the  year  1121,  two  fine  horses  ol 
Arabian  or  Barbary  blood  were  imported  into  Britain  ; one  was  in- 
troduced to  the  court  of  Henry  of  England  ; the  other  was  pre- 
sented to  the  Church  of  St.  Andrews,  in  Scotland,  by  King  Alex- 
ander I.  Col.  Smith  (Nat.  Lib.)  expresses  it  as  his  opinion,  that 
both  these  horses  were  Barbs , and  procured  from  Morocco,  through 
the  medium  of  the  Jewish  dealers.  Mr.  Youatt  says,  that  some 
pretensions  to  the  derivation  of  a breed  of  modern  racing-horses 
from  this  stock  have  been  put  forward,  but  that  they  are  devoid  of 
foundation.  In  the  reign  of  Henry  H.,  as  appears  from  a curious 
and  scarce  Latin  tract,  such  public  exhibitions  as  tournaments  and 
horse-races  became  comparatively  common.  They  are  spoken  of 
by  Fitzstephen,  the  monk,  in  his  description  of  London.  These  ex- 
hibitions were  then  held  in  Smithfeld , which  appears  to  have  been 
a resort  of  merchants  and  others,  and  an  extensive  horse-mart. 
Fitzstephen  says — “ Without  one  of  the  gates  of  the  city  is  a cer- 
tain plane,  or  smooth , both  in  name  and  situation.  Every  Friday, 
except  some  festival  intervene,  there  is  a fine  sight  of  horses  brought 


22 


HOUSES. 


to  be  sold.  Many  come  of  the  city  to  buy  or  look  on — to  wit, 
«arls,  barons,  knights,  and  citizens.  It  is  a pleasant  thing  to  behold 
the  homes  there,  all  gay  and  sleek,  moving  up  and  down ; some 
on  the  amble  and  some  on  the  trot — which  latter  pace,  although 
rougher  to  the  rider,  is  better  suited  to  men  who  bear  arms.  There, 
also,  are  colts,  yet  ignorant  of  the  bridle,  which  prance  and  bound, 
and  give  early  signs  of  spirit  and  courage ; there,  also,  are  managed 
war-horses,  of  elegant  shape,  full  of  fire,  and  giving  every  proof  of 
a generous  and  noble  temper ; horses,  also,  for  the  cart,  dray , and 
plow , are  to  be  found  here.” 

The  period  of  the  crusades  now  followed,  and  these  mad  enter- 
prises were  the  cause  of  much  diminution  in  the  number  of  our 
horses,  though,  I think,  of  some  improvement  also.  That  some 
valuable  horses  were  at  this  time  brought  to  England  from  the 
East  there  can,  however,  be  little  doubt,  and  many  legendary  tales 
of  the  Arabian  steeds  of  Richard  the  Lion-hearted,  still  exist. 

This  king  also  purchased  (1185)  fifteen  brood-mares,  for  which 
he  paid  the  sum  of  two  pounds  twelve  and  sixpence,  and  subse- 
quently distributed  to  his  tenants  at  four  shillings  each — a circum- 
stance indicative,  at  once,  of  the  king’s  desire  of  improvement,  and 
of  his  subjects’  welfare,  as  also  of,  even  taking  into  consideration 
the  difference  of  currency,  the  cheapness  of  the  article. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

EUROPEAN  HORSES CONTINUED. 

King  John  paid  attention  to  the  improvement  of  our  native 
breeds  of  horses.  He  imported  one  hundred  choice  stallions  from 
Flanders — a most  important  improvement,  as  being  eminently  cal- 
culated to  raise  our  agricultural  horses  to  such  a standard  of  power 
and  vigor  as  was  requisite  for  field  labor  and  for  draught ; and,  in 
the  same  reign — of  course  in  consequence  of  the  encouragement 
given,  and  the  example  set  by  the  monarch — a private  gentleman, 
named  Amphitil  Till,  possessed  a noble  breed  of  horses,  but  falling 
under  the  displeasure  of  his  capricious  prince,  was  imprisoned , and 
condemned  to  pay  a fine  for  his  ransom — a fine,  also,  characteristic 
of  the  royal  passion,  viz.,  ten  horses , each  worth  thirty  marks,  which 
is  equal  to  about  £300  of  our  present  currency. 


EUROPEAN  HORSES. 


23 


The  next  period  in  which  we  find  any  particular  mention  of 
horses,  is  about  a century  afterwards,  when  Edward  II.,  in  the 
second  year  of  his  reign,  gave  a commission  to  one  Bynde  Bona- 
venture  and  his  brother,  for  twenty  war-horses  and  twelve  draught- 
horses,  to  be  purchased  in  Lombardy,  requiring  all  his  friends  and 
loving  subjects  to  assist  in  carrying  Ihe  commission  into  effect. 
John  do  Trokelow,  who  wrote  the  annals  of  this  prince  in  130V, 
bears  strong  testimony  to  his  love  of  horses,  and  zeal  for  their  im- 
provement. 

Edward  III.,  whose  genius  appears  naturally  to  have  been  of  a 
warlike  character,  was  devotedly  attached  to  tournaments,  and 
other  similar  shows  of  a military  description ; hence  his  warm  en- 
couragement of  horse-breeding.  Among  other  instances  of  his 
zeal  in  this  respect,  he  bought  fifty  Spanish  chargers,  at  a price  of 
one  thousand  marks.  We  also  find  him  indebted  to  Count  Hainault 
in  the  sum  of  twenty-five  thousand  florins,  for  horses  which  he  had 
purchased  ; also,  sending  to  France  for  four  chargers  or  great  horses. 
Our  modern  readers  will,  perhaps,  learn  with  some  surprise  that  all 
these  war-horses  were  taught  to  amble ; and  in  the  account  of 
Edward’s  disbursements,  for  the  horses  he  obtained  from  France, 
we  find  one  item  of  trammels , for  the  purpose  of  teaching  horses  to 
amble . This  prince  had  also  many  running  horses , which  were 
probably  used  for  hunting  and  racing,  being  of  a lighter  and  more 
active  form  than  the  war-horses.  The  price  of  a running  horse  was, 
at  that  time,  £3  6s.  8d.  This  prince  also  crossed  the  heavier  with 
the  lighter  breeds,  and  thus  produced  a noble  race  of  horses  for 
the  chase — a pursuit  to  which  he  was  devotedly  attached.  It  was 
during  this  reign  that  horses  were  first  classified  according  to  their 
different  qualifications  and  uses. 

There  was,  in  these  early  times,  one  circumstance  which  greatly 
tended  to  keep  up  too  great  a degree  of  bulk  in  the  horse,  and, 
consequently,  to  retard  his  improvement,  viz.,  the  mode  in  which 
contests  were  usually  decided,  the  old  system  of  hand-to-hand 
combat  requiring  the  use  of  ponderous  armor — an  objection  not 
removed  until  the  introduction  of  the  use  of  gunpowder. 

From  this  period,  the  British  breed  of  horses  steadily  improved, 
and  became  known  and  valued  everywhere.  As  a matter  of  course, 
they  speedily  became  a subject  of  considerable  traffic,  and  this 
traffic  soon  led  to  frauds  on  the  parts  of  dealers  ; hence  we  find 
Richard  II.  enacting  certain  laws,  with  a view  to  the  prevention  ol 
dishonest  speculation  ; and,  accordingly,  that  prince,  in  1386,  issued 


24 


ilOKSES. 


an  edict  to  regulate  the  prices  of  the  different  descriptions  of  horses 
then  in  use.  From  this  as  being  principally  directed  to  the  coun- 
ties of  Lincoln,  Cambridge,  and  York,  we  can  perceive  that  they 
were  then  the  principal  breeding  districts  of  England ; and  it  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  remind  our  readers  that  the  last-named 
county  continues  to  the  present  day  so  famed  for  its  commerce  in 
this  description  of  article,  and  for  the  cunning  of  its  dealers,  as  to 
have  passed  into  a proverb — few  but  are  familiar  with  the  expres- 
sion, “ To  come  Yorkshire  over  me.”  The  civil  wars  which  arose 
at  or  about  this  time,  by  throwing  the  kingdom  into  confusion,  and 
setting  one  portion  of  the  inhabitants  against  the  other,  as  a matter 
of  course  not  only  checked  the  improvement  of  the  horse,  but 
caused  our  breeds  to  retrograde  ; and,  accordingly,  Philip  de  Comyn 
or  Comines,  speaks  in  very  disparaging  terms  of  the  English  army 
with  which  Edward  IY.  disembarked  in  France. 

The  only  notice  of  the  horse,  during  the  reign  of  Richard  III., 
that  we  have  been  able  to  obtain  is,  that  in  it  post-horses  and  stages 
were  first  established  (a.d.  1483). 

Henry  VII.  encouraged  the  breeding  of  valuable  horses ; the 
English  used  to  keep  large  herds  of  them  in  their  pastures  and 
common  fields,  and  when  the  harvests  were  gathered  in,  those  of 
different  owners  fed  promiscuously  together ; hence  the  horses  had 
to  be  emasculated,  in  order  to  avoid  disorder — a practice  further 
rendered  necessary,  in  consequence  of  an  act  passed  in  this  reign, 
that  no  entire  horse  should  be  let  out  into  any  pasture.  This  seems 
to  have  given  rise  to  our  modern  appellation  of  stallion , or  stalled 
one  by  contraction,  stallum , then  stallion.  This  king  also  prohibited 
the  exportation  of  stallions,  and  even  of  such  mares  as  were  under 
two  years  old,  and  over  the  value  of  6s.  8d.  By  means  of  this 
arbitrary  edict,  the  best  animals  were  kept  in  the  kingdom,  - and 
only  the  comparatively  worthless  permitted  to  leave  it;  these 
enactments  were  only  aimed  at  dealers.  Any  person  might  take 
out  of  the  country  horses  of  what  quality  he  pleased,  provided  that 
he  made  oath  they  were,  bona  fide , for  his  own  use,  and  not  for  sale. 

Henry  VIII.  paid  particular  regard  to  the  raising  of  a good 
breed  of  horses,  and  did  not  hesitate  about  forming  stringent  laws 
in  order  to  carry  his  intentions  into  effect.  The  enactments  which  he 
promulgated,  with  a view  to  the  improvement  of  horses  in  these 
islands  were  very  politic.  It  is  well  known  to  all  breeders,  that  in 
order  to  produce  a large  and  vigorous  progeny,  it  is  essential  to 
select  parents,  on  both  sides,  of  the  most  desirable  form ; and  when 


EUROPEAN  HORSES. 


25 


it  is  wished  to  raise  the  general  character  of  the  horses  of  any  dis- 
trict or  country,  there  could  be  no  better  or  more  certain  plan 
adopted,  with  such  a view,  than  the  prohibiting  of  all  inferior  de- 
scriptions for  breeding.  Such  was  the  course  adopted  by  this  king, 
and  a law  was  accordingly  passed,  directing  that  every  brood-mare 
should  be,  at  least,  fourteen  hands  high  ; and  so  marked  was  the 
effect  produced  by  this  statute,  that  Carew,  in  his  “ History  of 
Cornwall,”  suggests  that  to  this  was  attributable  the  almost  total 
loss  of  the  small  horses,  formerly  so  common  in  that  part  of  En- 
gland and  in  Wales — a loss  which  Carew  regrets,  but  which  has 
been  amply  replaced  by  a race  of  large  and  serviceable  animals. 

There  were  further  enactments  passed  in  this  reign,  all  with  an 
evident  view  to  the  attainment  of  a large  and  powerful  breed,  but 
some  very  singular  in  their  character.  For  example  : every  arch- 
bishop and  duke  was  obliged,  under  heavy  penalties,  to  keep  seven 
entire  horses,  each  above  three  years  old,  and  not  less  than  fourteen 
hands  high  ; each  parson  holding  a benefice  to  the  value  of  £100 
yearly,  or  a layman,  whose  wife  should  wear  any  French  hood  err 
bonnet , was  obliged,  under  the  penalty  of  £20,  to  keep  one  such 
horse.  The  obvious  reason  of  enjoining  entire  horses  to  be  kept, 
was  for  the  promotion  of  breeding ; and  with  a consideration  that 
was  hardly  to  be  expected  from  so  peremptory  a king,  the  rich  and 
noble  were  alone  compelled  to  keep  stallions , their  keep  being  so 
much  more  expensive,  while  the  humbler  classes  might  keep  such 
mares  and  geldings  as  they  thought  proper — the  latter  possessing 
the  advantage  of  being  able  to  be  freely  turned  out  to  grass. 

It  being  found  that  the  nature  of  the  pasture  in  some  counties, 
as  Cambridge,  Huntingdon,  Suffolk,  Northampton,  Lincoln,  and 
Norfolk,  was  unsuited  to  the  raising  of  horses  of  the  required 
bulk,  a statute  was  passed,  excepting  these  counties  from  the  opera- 
tion of  the  preceding  law,  and  reducing  the  required  standard  to 
thirteen  hands.  Infected  horses  were  also  prohibited  from  being 
turned  into  public  pastures. 

It  is  a fact,  and  one  much  to  be  regretted,  that  all  King  Henry’s 
enactments  appear  to  have  fallen  short  of  the  mark,  and  to  have 
produced  only  temporary,  and  not  permanent  improvement ; for 
when  Queen  Elizabeth  called  out  the  entire  strength  of  her  cavalry 
to  oppose  the  Spaniards,  she  could  only  muster  a force  of  three 
thousand  mounted  men-at-arms.  There  were  still  fine  horses  in 
the  kingdom,  for  Aldrovand  says  that  there  were,  but  principally 
in  possession  of  the  nobles.  Some  have  referred  this  failure  tc  the 
2 


26 


HORSES. 


tyrannical  character  of  Henry’s  enactments ; but  I think  that  it  is 
far  more  likely  to  have  been  owing  to  the  superiority  the  British 
houses  rapidly  attained  during  the  middle  portion  of  his  reign, 
which  caused  them  to  be  eagerly  purchased  up,  and  taken  out  oi 
the  kingdom  by  foreign  grandees  for  purposes  of  state — a circum- 
stance much  promoted  by  the  introduction  into  the  kingdom,  at 
the  time,  of  Italian  farriers  and  foreign  grooms , who,  of  course, 
had  the  welfare  of  their  native  country  far  more  at  heart  than  they 
could  have  had  that  of  a foreign  one. 

Queen  Elizabeth  was  fond  of  horses,  and  she  was  herself  a bold 
and  spirited  horsewoman,  riding  to  the  hounds  even  at  the  ad- 
vanced age  of  seventy.  In  the  commencement  of  her  reign  she 
repealed  the  statutes  enacted  by  her  father,  as  to  the  standard  size 
of  horses  to  be  kept  in  certain  English  counties.  In  the  twenty- 
second  year  of  this  reign,  coaches  were  first  introduced,  a.  d.  1580, 
by  Fitz  Allen,  Earl  of  Arundel.  Up  to  that  period,  the  first  ladies 
of  the  land  had  no  other  mode  of  conveyance  than  to  ride  behind 
a gentleman  on  the  pillion,  and  even  the  Queen  rode  thus  behind 
her  Master-of-Horse  when  she  went  in  state  to  St.  Paul’s.  The 
introduction  of.  coaches  tended  much  to  improve  the  breed  of 
horses,  as,  up  to  that  period,  slow,  heavy  brutes  were  preferred ; 
and  this  may  therefore  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  important 
epochs  in  the  history  of  the  horse  in  Britain.  The  use  of  coaches 
also  gave  rise  to  an  increased  demand,  and  at  length,  so  great  was 
the  number  of  horses  thus  employed,  that  a bill  was  actually  in- 
troduced into  the  House  of  Lords  “ to  restrain  the  excessive  aud 
superfluous  use  of  coaches.”  The  Lords,  fortunately  for  the  im- 
provement of  horses,  did  not  entertain  the  bill.  Still  some  of  the 
old  school  persisted  in  keeping  up  antiquated  usages,  for  we  find 
that  in  the  reign  of  James  I.  the  judges  rode  on  horseback  to  the 
courts  in  Westminster  Hall. 

Gunpowder  having  now  taken  place  of  the  heavy  armor  and 
the  lance,  a lighter  and  more  active  breed  of  horse  began  to  be 
cultivated,  and  when  armor  continued  at  all  to  be  used,  it  was  of 
a light  and  partial  description.  Such  was  the  origin  of  our  light 
and  fleet  breeds  of  horses,  which  became  as  necessary  as  the  weight 
of  the  rider  decreased,  as  were  the  more  heavy  and  powerful,  so 
long  as  the  ancient  ponderous  armor  continued  to  be  worn. 

In  Elizabeth’s  reign,  tournaments  continued  in  high  repute  ; and 
in  that  of  James  I.  of  England  and  VI.  of  Scotland,  every  de- 
scription of  liorsen  r-nship  received,  if  possible,  still  greater  encour- 


EUROPEAN'  HORSES. 


27 


agement.  Hoise-racing  now  became  extensively  cultivated  and 
promoted.  This  prince  had  formerly  established  this  sport  in 
Scotland,  but  unfortunately  his  system  was  urrong , consisting  almost 
wholly  of  matches  against  time,  or  trots  of  long-continued  en- 
durance. He  set  about  introducing  Arab  blood  into  the  kingdom  ; 
and  his  first  essay  was  the  celebrated  Markham  Arabian,  for 
which  he  gave  to  a merchant  of  that  name  the  very  sporting  price 
of  Jive  hundred  pounds — no  ordinary  figure  in  those  days,  but  equal 
to  at  least  two  thousand  pounds  of  present  currency.  This  is  the 
first  tndy  authentic  Arabian  that  ever  reached  England.  What 
the  exact  characters  of  this  horse  were,  we  possess  no  means  of 
ascertaining  ; but  the  Duke  of  Newcastle,  considered  the  greatest 
judge  of  horse-flesh  of  his  day,  conceived  such  a dislike  to  him, 
that,  in  his  “ Treatise  on  Horsemanship” — a book,  by  the  way, 
displaying  much  judgment — he  describes  him  as  a little,  bony, 
bay  horse,  of  ordinary  shape,  and  almost  worthless ; and  it  is 
certain  that  it  was  found  that,  after  training,  he  was  unable  to  run. 

The  failure  of  this  first  attempt  to  introduce  foreign  stock  did 
not  discourage  James : he  had  conceived  an  idea  which  was  not  to 
be  lightly  removed,  and  he  accordingly  purchased,  from  a Mr. 
Place,  a horse  which  had  been  brought  from  the  northern  coast  of 
Africa.  This  horse  was  the  celebrated  “ White  Turk  Mr. 
Place  was  afterwards  stud-master  to  Oliver  Cromwell.  This  im- 
portation was  speedily  followed  by  the  introduction  of  “ the 
Helmsley  Turk,”  by  Villiers,  the  first  Duke  of  Buckingham,  to 
which  that  fine  horse,  called  the  Morocco  Barb,  was  added  by 
Lord  Fairfax.  From  this  period,  improvement  rapidly  advanced 
— indeed  so  rapidly,  as  to  call  forth  the  lamentations  of  Lord 
Harlegh,  for  the  visible  diminution  of  the  old  stock,  known  as 
“ the  Great  Horse.” 

Charles  I.  followed  up  the  advantages  which  James  had  already 
secured,  and  warmly  encouraged  both  racing  and  hunting ; indeed, 
to  such  an  extent  was  the  breeding  of  light  and  rapid  horses 
brought  by  this  prince,  that  it  became  the  subject  of  a memorial, 
setting  forth  that  the  breed  of  stout  and  powerful  horses,  “ fit  for 
the  defence  of  the  country,”  was  likely  altogether  to  disappear,  un- 
less measures  were  taken  to  prevent  their  doing  so.  This  prince 
first  substituted  the  use  of  the  bit  for  the  old  snaffle. 

Cromwell  had  his  stud  of  race-horses,  and  proved  that  he  felt 
mere  bone  and  bulk  to  be  no  match  for  speed  and  endurance  ; he 
therefore  recognized  horse-racing,  as  a means  of  promoting  the 


28 


HOUSES. 


breed  of  active  coursers,  to  be  connected  with  his  country’s  wel- 
fare. Cromwell  had  himself  trained,  probably,  the  best  regiment 
of  cavalry  at  the  time  in  existence. 


CHAPTER  VH. 

HORSES  OF  EUROPE,  CONTINUED. 

The  Restoration  seems  to  have  given  a fresh  impulse  to  racing, 
tnd,  consequently,  to  horse-breeding ; and  not  only  were  the 
courses  already  established  by  Charles  I.  at  Hyde  Park  and  New- 
market, still  encouraged  and  patronized  by  royalty,  but  others 
were  added  to  the  number,  and  the  monarch  himself  became  a 
competitor  for  the  prizes.  These  prizes  had,  up  to  this  period, 
consisted  of  a bell,  a simple  trophy ; and  hence  the  common 
pmase,  intended  to  imply  success,  “he  bore  away  the  bell.” 
Behs  were  now  abolished,  and  a cup,  or  piece  of  plate,  to  the  value 
of  one  hundred  guineas,  substituted  for  them.  Newmarket  now 
assumed  the  lead,  and  that  position  it  has  ever . since  occupied. 
We  may  add  that,  in  more  recent  times,  the  cup  or  plate  is  not 
always  to  be  taken  in  the  literal  sense  of  the  words,  the  actual 
value,  viz.,  one  hundred  guineas,  being, in  nearly  every  case,  given 
to  the  winner  instead.  Charles  H.  sent  his  master-of-horse  to  the 
Levant,  in  order  to  procure  horses  and  mares.  These  were,  of 
course,  from  the  locality,  frequently  Turks  or  Barbs,  but  speedily 
every  description  of  eastern  horse  became  engrafted  on  British 
stock. 

William  HI.  established  a riding-school,  under  the  management 
of  a French  gentleman,  named  Major  Foubert ; he  also  added 
several  plates  in  different  parts  of  the  kingdom. 

Queen  Anne  encouraged  racing,  and  not  only  c mtinued  a bounty 
equal  to  that  of  her  predecessors,  but  added  several  new  plates. 
Towards  the  end  of  this  reign,  the  prejudice  against  Arab  blood, 
which  originated  in  the  failure  of  King  James’s  horse,  was  effectually 
removed  by  the  introduction  of  the  celebrated  Barley  Arabian. 
Mr.  Darley  procured  this  beautiful  horse  from  his  brother,  a mer- 
chant settled  in  Aleppo.  This  was  the  horse  truly  calculated  to 
perfect  the  British  stock,  and  to  render  it  what  it  has  ever  since 
continued — the  first  in  the  world  ! Of  the  Darley  Arabian, 


HORSES  OF  EUROPE. 


29 


little  need  be  said  beyond  stating  that  he  was  the  sire  of  “ Flying 
Childers,”  the  fastest  horse  that  ever  ran.  Flying  Childers  ran 
over  the  course  at  Newmarket,  a distance  of  three  miles,  six  fui- 
longs,  and  ninety-three  yards,  in  six  minutes  and  forty  seconds ; 
the  Beacon  course  (four  miles,  one  furlong,  and  one  hundred  and 
thirty-eight  yards),  in  seven  minutes  and  thirty  seconds  ; and  also 
accomplished  very  nearly  one  mile  in  a minute.  Such  was  the 
progeny  of  the  Darley  Arabian  with  the  old  English  racer.  The 
British  horse  is  now  the  fastest  in  the  world,  and  far  superior  to 
the  Arab,  even,  in  swiftness.  It  is  not  many  years  since  Py ramus, 
the  best  Arab  in  Bengal,  was  beaten  with  ease  by  Recruit,  an  En- 
glish racer  of  scarcely  fourth-rate  merit. 


DARLEY  ARABIAN. 


George  I.  continued  the  royal  patronage  of  the  turf,  and  was 
the  first  to  discontinue  the  practice  of  giving  cups  or  plates  for 
prizes,  giving  specie  to  the  value  of  one  hundred  guineas  in  their 

stead. 

George  II.  adopted  a wise  policy,  and  one  calculated  alike  to 
retard  the  progress  of  an  inferior  race  of  horses,  and  to  remove 
from  the  lower  class  of  people  much  of  the  temptation  to  attend 
races.  This  was  embodied  in  an  Act  of  Parliament,  passed  in  the 
thirteenth  year  of  his  reign.  By  this  it  was  enacted,  that  for  any 
and  every  horse  a certain  tax  should  be  paid,  besides  other  par- 
ticulars. 

In  the  reign  of  George  III.  special  taxes  were  imposed  upon 


30 


HORSES. 


race-horses,  and  in  the  twenty-fourth  year  of  this  reign,  it  was 
enacted — that  every  running-horse,  entered  to  start  for  any  plate 
or  other  prize,  should,  in  addition  to  all  former  imposts,  pay  the 
sum  of  £2  2s.,  “ and  the  owner  thereof  shall  previously  pay  two 
guineas,  as  the  duty  for  one  year,  to  the  clerk  of  the  course,  or 
other  authorized  person.”  This  king  was  strongly  attached  to 
racing,  which,  however,  he  endeavored  to  strip  of  its  abuses,  pro- 
bably conceiving  that  horse-racing,  when  properly  conducted  as  a 
mere  trial  of  speed,  was  perfectly  legitimate,  and  calculated  to  pro- 
duce good  effects,  while  it  was  its  abuse  alone  that  rendered  this 
amusement  incompatible  with  true  religion.  By  the  zeal  of  this 
monarch,  public  riding-schools  were  established,  and  this  led  to  the 
establishment  of  many  private  menages  by  the  princes  of  the  blood 
and  persons  of  fortune.  He  also  instituted  the  first  veterinary 
college,  with  a view  to  placing  the  treatment  of  horses  and  cattle 
under  disease  upon  a proper  footing ; a French  gentleman, 
Monsieur  Vial  de  St.  Bel,  of  much  skill,  was  appointed  professor. 

George  IV.  was  devoted  to  the  horse,  to  horsemanship,  and  to 
the  turf,  from  his  earliest  years  ; and  during  his  reign  these  amuse- 
ments attained  a height  hitherto  unprecedented,  and,  we  -may  per- 
haps add,  unsurpassed  since.  During  this  reign,  the  French  be- 
came infected  with  enthusiasm  relative  to  horse-racing ; and  our 
system,  regulations,  and  even  the  costume  of  our  jockeys,  were  all 
eagerly  adopted.  The  Duke  of  Orleans  was  the  first  who  assumed 
the  dress  of  an  English  jockey  in  France,  and  his  example  was 
speedily  followed. 

We  have  now  traced  the  history  of  the  horse  in  England,  from 
the  earliest  time  of  which  we  possess  any  record,  to  the  present 
day.  That,  to  many,  such  an  account  must  have  proved  weari- 
some, is  possible ; but  we  do  trust  that  to  the  majority  of  our 
readers  the  contrary  has  been  the  case,  and  that  the  preceding  de- 
tail will  rather  enhance  than  detract  from  the  interest  which  will 
be  experienced  in  the  succeeding  portion  of  a more  practical  cha- 
racter. 

Before,  however,  proceeding  to  those  particulars,  it  is  necessary 
to  say  a very  few  words  of  the  horses  indigenous  to  Scotland  and 

Ireland. 


SCOTCH  AND  IRISH  HORSES. 


31 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  INDIGENOUS  HORSES  OF  SCOTLAND  AND  IRELAND. 

In  Scotland,  a small  race  of  horses  has  existed  from  time  im- 
memorial, remarkable  for  their  symmetry  of  form  and  docility  of 
disposition,  and  known  by  the  name  of  Galloways.  So  much 
esteemed  were  these  little  horses  in  former  times,  ’that  it  became 
necessary  for  the  Scottish  monarchs  to  restrict  their  exportation. 
Tradition  says  that  these  horses  are  of  Spanish  origin,  and  that 
they  originally  sprung  from  Spanish  horses  which  swam  ashore 
from  some  of  the  ships  composing  the  redoubted  Spanish  armada, 
which  were  wrecked  upon  the  western  coast  of  Scotland. 

In  the  islands  and  northern  counties  of  Scotland  is  also  to  be 
met  with  a small,  rough,  hardy  race,  scarcely  exceeding  a large 
dog  in  size,  and  called  Shelties.  With  the  exception  of  the  head, 
which  is  generally  somewhat  too  large,  these  little  creatures  are 
most  symmetrically  formed,  being,  indeed,  almost  miniatures  oi 
the  Arabian. 


THE  SHETLAND  PONY. 

Most  Shelties  present  some  objectionable  points  about  the  head 
— in  some  instances  almost  amounting  to  deformity. 

Ireland  also  possesses  an  indigenous  breed  of  horses ; some  say 
several,  but  we  are  disposed  to  imagine  that  but  one  breed  is  proper- 
ly entitled  to  be  regarded  as  primitive,  the  others  being  merely 


32 


HORSES. 


variations  resulting  from  crosses,  and  subsequent  neglect.  These 
horses  are  of  small  size,  but  of  good  form,  very  strong  in  proportion 
to  their  stature,  active,  and  of  excellent  constitution.  These  were 
popularly  called  Hobbies;  they  were  formerly  in  much  esteem, 
both  in  their  native  country  and  in  England,  and  so  great  was  the 
mania  for  possessing  them,  which  at  one  time  existed  almost  uni- 
versally throughout  the  British  Islands,  that  their  name  became 
afterwards  proverbially  applied  to  every  object  on  which  an  indi- 
vidual placed  inordinate  affection.  “ He  is  on  his  hobby,”  is  an 
expression  too  familiar  to  require  the  reader  to  be  more  than  re- 
minded of  it. 

Many  of  the  old  writers  speak  in  complimentary  terms  of  these 
little  horses,  and  bear  testimony  to  the  high  degree  of  estimation 
in  which  they  were  formerly  held.  Both  Strutt  and  Campion  have 
recorded  their  value  in  their  works,  as  witness  the  following  pas- 
sages : — “ Horses  they  have  of  pace  easie,  in  running  wonderful 
swift.  Therefore  they  make  of  them  great  store,  as  wherein  at 
times  of  need  they  repose  a great  piece  of  safetie.”  “ I heard  it 
verified  by  honorable  to  honorable,  that  a nobleman  offered,  and 
was  refused,  for  one  such  horse,  an  hundred  kyne,  five  townlands, 
and  an  eery  of  hawks  yearly,  during  seven  years.”  It  has  been 
asserted  that  the  climate  of  Ireland  is  too  moist  to  be  favorable  to 
the  breed  of  horses.  The  only  reply  that  we  can  give  to  this  as- 
sertion is  a practical  one — look  to  these  “ hobbies,”  the  indigenous 
breed  of  the  country,  ere  we  possessed  the  advantage  of  crossing 
from  English  or  foreign  stocks,  so  highly  valued  everywhere  ; look 
at  the  performances  of  more  modern  Irish  racers  and  hunters.  In 
the  month  of  October,  a.d.  1*741,  a Mr.  Wilde  undertook  to  ride 
127  miles  in  nine  hours  ; he  performed  it  in  six  hours  and  twenty- 
one  minutes,  riding  ten  horses,  making  due  all  wance  for  mounting, 
dismounting  and  refreshment.  This  took  place  at  the  Curragh 
meeting  (Kildare)  of  that  year.  The  following  redounds  more  to 
the  credit  of  the  horse  than  to  that  of  the  inhuman  rider : Two 
Irish  grooms  were  drinking  at  the  door  of  a public-house,  one 
having  with  him  for  exercise  a favorite  hunter  of  his  master’s ; the 
trifling  bet  of  a glass  of  whiskey  was  made  that  the  horse  would 
not  clear  a neigh  boring  wall.  The  drunken  brute  at  once  accepted 
the  wager,  and  turning  the  horse,  put  him  standing  at  the  wall, 
the  height  considerably  exceeding  seven  feet.  The  poor  horse,  not 
having*  imbibed  the  same  maddening:  stimulant  as  his  master,  re- 
fused  the  leap.  The  groom  immediately  wheeled  him  round,  can- 


SCOTCH  AND  IRISH  HORSES. 


83 


tered  him  a short  distance,  so  as  to  obtain  a run,  ard  then  putting 
the  poor  animal  at  speed,  once  more  faced  him  at  the  wall.  The 
noble  creature,  too  full  of  spirit  to  refuse  a second  time,  rose  his 
best — alas  ! the  height  of  the  wall  far  exceeded  the  powers  of  any 
horse  unfurnished  with  w;ngs,  and  the  generous  animal  forfeited 
his  life  to  his  courage.  His  forefeet  striking  the  summit,  he 
grounded  on  the  other  side,  both  forelegs  were  broken  in  the  fall, 
and  he  was  shot. 

It  is  principally  as  high  leapers  that  the  Irish  horses  are  renown- 
ed, and  in  this  class  of  performance  we  believe  they  are  unrivalled, 
nor  is  their  style  of  leaping  that  of  an  ordinary  horse,  taking  a 
moderate  elevation  in  “ a fly  ” as  a horse  in  training  will  take  the 
bar  in  a riding-school.  The  Irish  horse  leaps  with  a single  bound, 
all  his  form  collected  together,  rests  lightly  for  half  a second  upon 
the  summit  of  the  obstacle,  and  springs  as  lightly  down.  The 
leap  of  the  Irish  horse  resembles  as  closely  as  possible  that  of  the 
deer,  and  the  elevation  they  will  clear  in  this  manner  frequently 
equals  the  height  of  their  heads.  Until  a recent  date,  the  Irish 
horse  was  valued  almost  exclusively  as  a hunter,  and  for  steeple- 
chases ; but  events  in  the  racing  world  have  since  shown  that  on 
the  turf  he  is  as  little  to  be  despised  as  after  hounds.  The  per- 
formances of  Harkaway,  The  Baron,  Foigh-a-ballagh,  and  a host  of 
others,  evincing  first-rate  speed,  are  sufficient  to  remove  any  slur 
that  might  ever  have  been  attempted  to  be  cast  upon  the  racing 
qualities  of  the  Irish  horse.  It  is  not,  however,  to  be  denied,  that 
the  Irish  horse  occasionally  possesses  some  peculiarities  of  shape 
which  might  displease  an  English  eye ; amongst  others  may  be 
enumerated  a certain  degree  of  angularity  or  raggedness  of  form, 
and  in  many  a tendency  to  too  great  thickness  and  shortness  in 
the  forehand.  No  writer,  however  opposed  to  the  admission  of 
anything  perfect  coming  out  of  Ireland,  has  attempted  to  refuse  to 
the  Irish  blood-horse  the  attributes  of  immense  power,  proportioned 
to  his  bulk,  of  a happy  combination  of  spirit  and  fire,  with,  for  the 
most  part,  mildness  and  docility,  courage  and  gentleness.  The 
Irish  bfood-horse  may,  indeed,  fearlessly  vie  with  those  of  any 
country  in  the  world. 


2* 


34 


HORSES. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE  RACER. 

OUR  PRESENT  BREEDS,  AND  HINTS  AS  TO  MANAGEMENT. 

It  is  now  fit  that  we  should  glance,  somewhat  in  detail,  at  the 
different  breeds  of  horses  at  present  in  use  throughout  the  United 
Kingdom.  Probably  the  best  subdivision  of  these  breeds  that  we 
could  adopt  is  one  founded  upon  the  several  uses  to  which  each 
breed  is  most  properly  allotted  : — For  racing,  hunting,  road-riding, 
draught,  general  agricultural  purposes,  &c.  By  following  this 
method,  we  shall  be  enabled  to  enumerate  and  describe  each  im- 
portant breed  seriatim . 

The  Racer  of  these  islands,  from  having  been  so  frequently 
crossed  with,  nay,  chiefly  formed  from,  the  Arab  and  Barb,  bears 
a very  considerable  family-likeness  to  these  animals  ; but  he  is 
superior  to  them  in  stature,  in  stride,  and  in  performance.  The 
Racer  should  carry  a high  and  lofty  head,  with  bright  and  cour- 
ageous eye,  small  ear,  expanded  nostril,  arched  neck,  convex  on 
the  upper  surface,  hut  not  presenting  any  curve  underneath  ; some- 
times the  neck  presents  an  appearance  precisely  the  reverse  of 
this,  usually  in  mares  • this  is  by  many  declared  to  he  a sign  of 
very  high  blood ; it  is  called  “ ewe-necked.”  In  my  opinion,  hov,  - 
ever,  it  is  less  a sign  of  blood  than  a proof  of  the  animal’s  progeni- 
tors having  been  related  within  too  close  degrees  of  affinity — a cir- 
cumstance that  should,  when  possible,  be  avoided.  A Racer  must 


THE  KACEli. 


35 


be  a blood  horse.  The  meaning  of  this  term  is  as  follows  : — The 
Arab  is  supposed  to  be  the  purest  and  least  adulterated  of  breeds, 
and  to  be  the  most  faithful  representative  extant  of  the  original 
horse ; the  criterion  of  blood  is,  therefore,  the  being  able  to  trace  a 
horse’s  pedigree  to  an  Asiatic  progenitor.  Thorough-bred  and 
blood  are  synonymous  terms.  It  does  occasionally,  though  rarely, 
happen  that  a horse  is  perfectly  formed,  although  not  thorough- 
bred ; when  such  is  the  case,  the  horse,  notwithstanding  his  form, 
is  usually  deficient  in  speed,  and,  however  excellent  for  other  pur- 
poses, is  useless  as  a Racer ; it  also  occasionally  happens  that  a 
thorough-bred  horse  is  defective  in  some  of  the  running  points  of 
form.  In  order,  therefore,  to  constitute  a Racer,  we  must  have  a 
combination  of  blood  and  form — an  ill-formed  horse  cannot  run ; 
and  none  but  a blood  horse  can  race  at  speed  to  the  end  of  a long 
course,  and  live.  There  has  been  much  controversy  on  this  sub- 
ject; but  I think  I have,  in  a few  words,  rendered  the  actual  facte 
sufficiently  clear  and  intelligible. 


ECLIPSE. 

It  is  not,  perhaps,  generally  known,  that  the  common  expression 
applied  by  jockeys  to  a well-formed  horse  which  cannot  race,  “ he 
wants  heart,”  is  literally  and  anatomically  true.  The  heart  of  a 
Racer  must  be  large,  and  the  cavity  of  the  chest  capacious.  The 
lungs  also  must  be  large,  and  play  freely.  The  heart  of  Eclipse, 
who,  next  to  Flying  Childers,  was  the  fastest  horse  that  ever  ran, 
was  of  a singularly  large  size,  weighing  upwards  of  fourteen 


86 


HORSES. 


pounds.  The  expression,  “broke  his  heart”  is  also, in  many  cases, 
literally  correct,  that  viscus  being  not  unfrequently  burst  or  rup- 
tured when  the  poor  animal  is  pushed  to  over  and  undue  exertion. 
To  return,  however.  The  neck  must  be  gracefully  set  on,  and  the 
shoulder  must  be  lengthened,  oblique,  and  lie  well  back ; a lofty 
lore-quarter  denotes  relationship  to  the  Barb,  that  race  being  re- 
markable for  presenting  this  feature.  The  Godolphin  Barb,  indeed 
(sometimes  erroneously  called  the  Arabian),  possessed  this  feature 
to  an  extraordinary  degree.  The  quarters  should  be  ample  and 
muscular  ; the  fore-legs  straight  and  fine,  but  with  sufficient  bone  ; 
the  hinder  legs  well  bent,  and  the  pasterns  long  and  springy. 
Much  strength  in  little  compass,  provided  that  compass  is  not  too 
little  to  admit  of  adequate  stretch,  or  stride,  constitutes  the  acme 
of  perfection  in  a Racer. 


FLYING  CHILDERS. 


The  British  Racer  has  long  held  a first  place  in  the  estimation 
of  the  equestrians  of  Europe. 

Some  are  fond  of  asserting  that  our  horses  are  degenerating  in 
excellence,  and  in  proof,  recapitulate  the  performances  of  some  oi 
our  coursers  of  former  days.  I deny  the  correctness  of  the  infer- 
ence, and  would  rather  suggest  that  our  horses  have  so  much 
progressed  in  excellence,  that  feats,  once  deemed  extraordinary,  are 
now  regarded  as  common-place,  and  scarcely  talked  of.  Thorough- 
bred horses  are  now,  in  consequence  of  the  great  general  improve- 


THE  HUNTER. 


37 


ment,  more  equal  in  point  of  speed,  and  fewer  individual  per- 
formances occur  to  excite  wonder.  On  one  point,  however,  before 
leaving  the  subject  of  the  Racer,  I would  take  this  opportunity  of 
expressing  my  unqualified  opinion — that  the  abominable  practice 
of  running  horses  at  too  early  an  age,  which  is  at  present  fast, 
creeping  into  fashion,  is  but  too  certain  to  produce  early  founder- 
ing and  rapid  degeneracy  of  stock. 


THE  HUNTER. 

The  Hunter,  in  a country  abounding  with  hedges,  stone  walls, 
and  heavy-plowed  lands,  should  be  bred  with  a view  to  greater 
power  than  is  requisite  in  the  Racer,  and  length  of  stride  is,  there- 
fore, less  essential  to  his  form  than  barrel.  Let  his  legs  and  pas- 
terns be  rather  short  than  otherwise  ; an  Arabian  would  speedily 
founder  in  a run  with  hounds  across  one  of  the  most  level  of  Bri- 
tish counties.  Clumsiness  is  not,  however,  a necessary  concomi- 
tant of  power.  Let  the  Hunter  have  as  much  strength  as  possi- 
ble, without  weight ; sufficient  courage,  without  wild,  tameless 
fire ; good  wind,  free  breath,  a free  gallop,  but,  at  the  same  tin  <e, 
a ligh*  and  nimble,  and  a free,  easy,  sweet  trot ; and  let  him  be 
Sx  years  old  before  he  is  ridden  to  hounds  : a horse  may  be  ad- 
vantageously used  n the  harrow  and  light  draught  when  rising 
four,  and  may  thus  be  made  to  u pay  his  keep.”  Many  recom- 


58 


HORSES. 


inend  putting  your  Hunter  in  the  plow,  and  eo  would  I,  under 
certain  conditions — viz.,  that  the  land  be  not  heavy,  and  the  plow 
be  a Light  one ; if  tln-at/  conditions  be  not  attended  to,  the  horse  is 
apt  to  acquire  an  ugly  carriage,  and  a habit  of  poking  with  his 
head — faults  which,  however  lightly  they  may  be  regarded  at 
first,  will  prove  serious  inconveniences,  when  they  cause  the 
Hunter  to  fall  headlong  in  full  career,  in  consequence  of  his 
being  unable  to  use  his  eyesight  when  his  head  is  kept  up  and  in 
hand.  This  custom  of  working  young  Hunters,  indeed  to  a great 
extent  old  ones  also,  prevails  much  in  Ireland.  There  are  in  Ire- 
land but  few  farmers,  or  small  landowners,  who  do  not  strive  to 
keep  at  least  one  “ blood  horse,”  and  in  many  instances  the 
finances  are  too  low,  or  prudence  is  too  great,  to  admit  of  such 
being  kept  as  mere  idlers,  or  permitted  uselessly  to  “ eat  their 
heads  off”  in  the  stable. 

Much  controversy  has  arisen  relative  to  the  advantages  or  dis- 
advantages of  what  is  called  “ summering  the  Hunter.”  In  our 
opinion,  nothing  so  tends  to  renovate  his  powers  as  turning  the 
poor  horse  out  to  grass  in  summer.  The  opponents  to  this  sys- 
tem argue  that  doing  so  destroys  the  animal’s  condition,  and  gives 
his  owner  a world  of  trouble  to  get  him  in  order  for-  the  ensuing 
season : even,  however,  were  this  the  case,  would  you  keep  the 
poor  wretch  that  has  served  you  so  faithfully  during  your  winter’s 
chase,  standing  in  a hot  stable  during  the  sultry  heats  of  summer, 
and  all — to  save  a little  trouble  ? 

There  is  nothing  like  summering  for  renovating  the  hoof ; and 
with  a view  to  this,  a soft  pasture  should  be  selected,  yet  not  a 
boggy  one : the  grass  growing  on  a boggy  soil  is  unhealthful,  the 
vapors  arising  from  it  prejudicial,  and  the  “ fly”  far  more  trouble- 
some than  in  drier  grounds.  This  mode  of  treatment  has  another 
advantage  : it  obviates  the  necessity  of  physic,  the  less  of  which  a 
horse  can  be  given  the  better. 

Hunters  must  be  fed  according  to  their  work ; when  that  is 
hard,  let  them  have  plenty — when  otherwise,  diminish  the  food, 
especially  the  hay.  Beckford  judiciously  recommends  a little  clean 
wheat-straw  to  be  chopped  small,  and  mixed  with  their  corn. 

When  your  horses  require  physic,  if  at  grass,  take  them  in  the 
first  night  after  each  dose  ; such  as  require  powerful  medicine 
should  be  physicked  in  the  stable.  Nitre  is  a useful  medicine ; 
is  very  cooling,  and  otherwise  salutary  in  its  effects,  as  an  altera- 
tive * it  may  be  given  in  doses  of  an  ounce  to  each  horse,  eithei 


THE  HACKNEY 


39 


in  the  water,  or  among  the  corn.  Carrots  are  excellent  for  horses 
when  at  all  thick  in  the  wind,  foul  in  the  coat,  or  low  in  flesh  ; 
but  they  should  not  be  given  in  the  corn,  as  some  writers  recom- 
mend, for  the  horses  are  in  that  case  apt  afterwards  to  refuse  it 
unmixed. 

The  Hackney,  or  Roadster,  should  be  still  more  compact 
than  the  hunter,  with  more  substance  in  proportion  to  his  height ; 
his  forehand  should  be  light,  but  high ; his  head  small,  and 
placed  in  a tapering  manner  on  his  neck ; shoulders  deep  and 
spacious,  and  lying  well  back  ; back  straight ; loins  strong ; fillets 
wide,  and  withers  well  raised ; nor  must  the  croup  droop  too  sud 
lenly,  or  the  tail  be  set  on  too  low.  The  forearm  should  be  par 
ticularly  strong  and  muscular ; the  legs  should  be  straight,  and 
set  together  ; the  feet  should  point  directly  forward  (bad  shoeing, 
however,  which  may  be  remedied,  may  occasion  the  reverse  of 
this)  ; see  that  his  knees  do  not  bend ; above  all  things,  avoid  a 
horse  that  stands  over  ; he  does  sometimes  turn  out  well,  but  you 
can  never  depend  upon  him,  never  knowing  when  he  Inay  come 
down  ; the  hind  legs  should  be  placed  well  back,  and  should 
stand  wide  ; observe  his  action,  that  he  lift  not  his  feet  too  high, 
for  however  the  novice  may  conceive  such  a practice  to  be  a safe- 
guard against  stumbling,  or  to  have  a showy  appearance,  it  is  cer- 
tain to  produce  a most  uneasy  seat,  as  well  as  to  occasion  very 
unnecessary  wear  and  tear  of  the  hoof.  Take  care,  at  the  same 
time,  that  he  lift  not  his  feet  in  a slovenly  manner,  or  too  low,  and 
that,  above  all,  his  feet  are  returned  flat  to  the  ground  ; if  the  toe 
first  comes  down,  the  animal  is  sure  to  prove  a ^tumbler.  Always 
feel  your  horse’s  mouth,  even  when  traveling  the  smoothest  road  : 
this  is  a good  habit,  and  may  frequently  save  him  his  knees  and 
you  a fall. 

Too  high  breeding  is  objectionable  in  a roadster,  as  tending  to 
impart  a straight-kneed,  upright  action,  calculated  extremely  well 
for  racing,  but  very  ill  adapted  for  the  road. 

In  speaking  of  the  hackney,  or  ordinary  riding  horse,  it  would 
be  wrong  to  omit  saying  a few  words  of  the  horse  generally  used 
as  a war-steed  or  charger.  The  light  cavalry  are  now  mounted  on 
half-bred  horses,  possessing  much  of  the  character  of  the  hunter, 
and  indeed  some  present  no  inconsiderable  appearance  of  blood. 
Formerly,  all  our  cavalry  were  mounted  on  great,  heavy  animals, 
partaking  closely  of  Flanders  stock ; but  it  is  now  long  since  it 
was  found  that  lighter  and  more  active  horses  proved  far  more 


40 


HORSES. 


effective  in  the  field,  anil  that  rapidity  of  evolution  was  a greater 
desideratum  than  mere  physical  weight  or  strength.  What  is 
known  as  a “ weight-carrying  hunter”  is  about  the  best  descrip- 
tion of  horse  for  a charger.  The  horses  of  the  artillery  display 
less  appearance  of  blood  than  the  ordinary  charger,  and  when  cast, 
as  it  is  called,  are  well  worthy  the  attention  of  agriculturists,  as 
they  are  docile  and  willing,  and  make  excellent  servants  either  for 
the  cart  or  plow. 

The  Carriage  Horse. — The  best  and  most  showy  carriage 
horses  are  those  descended  from  Norman  blood.  Those  in  ordi- 
nary use  are  now  bred  with  so  much  blood  as  to  present  very  little 
difference  of  appearance  from  the  hunter.  The  best  carriage  horses 
that  could  be  bred  would  be  produced  by  crossing  a handsome 
draught-mare  with  a thorough-bred  horse,  provided  the  latter  pos- 
sesses sufficient  bone  and  height.  The  best  description  of  draught- 
mare  that  could,  perhaps,  be  selected  for  this  purpose,  is  that 
called  the  Cleveland  Bay,  a clean-made  but  powerful  animal,  and 
one  which  was  formerly  much  in  use  to  mount  our  cavalry. 

The  Draught  Horse. — The  present  breed  of  draught  horses  in 
England  are  remarkable  for  their  gigantic  size,  vast  power,  and 
slow,  deliberate  motion.  The  most  esteemed  are  the  Clydesdale  ; 
for  that  breed,  although  of  large  size,  possesses  greater  suppleness 
of  limb  and  more  activity  than  the  heavy  Flemish.  The  brewers 
of  London  have  been  long  celebrated  for  their  enormous  horses, 
and  the  utility  of  their  prodigious  size  has  been  often  thoughtlessly 
questioned.  I say  thoughtlessly , for  their  bulk  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  enable  them  to  endure  uninjured  the  shocks  they  experi- 
ence in  drawing  their  heavy  loads  over  a rugged  London  pavement. 
M.  Huzard  and  M.  Desmarests  assert  that  these  great  horses  are 
of  the  Boulogne  race  of  France;  but  Colonel  Smith  contradicts 
this  assertion,  and  affirms,  “No  French  horses,  save  those  of  Nor- 
man blood,  have  met  with  consideration  in  England  for  more  than 
a century.”  The  English  draught  horse  was,  in  my  opinion,  an 
animal  of  gradual  development.  It  was,  I think,  first  imported  by 
the  Saxons,  and  subsequently  gradually  improved  in  size  and 
power  by  crossing  with  the  Flemish  horses,  introduced  by  the  fol- 
lowers of  William  of  Normandy,  who,  with  their  Earl,  obtained  ft 
large  grant  of  land  at  the  Conquest.  Colonel  Smith  says,  that  the 
Flemish  archives  contain  indications  of  the  horses  of  that  country 
having  been  conveyed  to  England  during  the  Plantagenet  dynasty. 

The  present  great  horses  of  the  London  brewers  are,  I believe. 


CART  HORSE. 


41 


bred  chiefly  in  Yorkshire,  Lincolnshire,  and  Sta  fordshire.  Some 
fine  animals  are  also  bred  in  Northamptonshire. 

For  farm  use,  cart  horses  should  not  be  bred  too  heavy,  for  they 
will  be  found  to  retain  an  equal  proportion  of  power  if  bred  with 
a view  to  a moderate  share  of  activity.  I am  of  opinion  that  the 
English  farmers  and  owners  who  use  horse-power,  are  in  error  in 
employing  such  large  and  heavy  animals  as  they  do.  This  system 
compels  them  to  keep  a greater  number  than  they  otherwise  need 
have ; and  it  should  be  recollected  that  every  unnecessary  or  su- 


THE  DRAY  HORSE. 

pemumerary  horse  kept  upon  a farm  is  just  as  much  absolute  loss 
of  money  as  his  support  costs,  and  that  cost  need  not  necessa- 
rily consist  of  actual  outlay ; the  produce  thus  consumed  is  to  be 
regarded  as  so  much  money  wasted.  These  great  horses  cannot , 
besides , do  their  fair  share  of  work  ; they  are  too  sluggish,  too 
lethargic ; and  hence  English  agriculturists,  who  employ  such,  are 
obliged  to  work  a greater  number  than,  with  proper  management, 
ought  to  be  necessary. — I have  frequently  been  amused  to  see,  in 
some  of  the  English  midland  counties,  three  enormous  horses,  for 
instance,  drawing  a light  plow  on  light  soil — a work  that  would  be 
performed  with  ease  by  a single  horse  of  the  lighter  breeds. 

To  such  as  breed  cart  horses,  or  wish  to  do  so,  I may  offer  a few 
words  of  advice.  You  must  be  governed  in  your  operations  by 
the  description  of  work  for  which  you  design  the  animal  you  desire 
to  breed.  If  you  live  upon  a light,  sandy  soil,  a foal  out  of  a 


42 


HORSES. 


Clydesdale  mare,  by  a thorough-bred  horse,  will  produce  a valua- 
ble article,  and  one  that  you  can  work  up  to  six  years  old,  by  which 
time  yt  u will  have  another  colt  ready  to  your  hand,  and  may  dis- 
pose of  the  former  at  a remunerative  price.  If  you  reside  on  a 
stronger  soil,  you  must  breed  a heavier  animal ; and  if  you  put  a 
Clydesdale  stallion  to  a mare  produced  by  across  such  as  I have 
described,  you  will  have  attained  your  end  to  your  satisfaction. 
In  rearing  your  foals,  recollect  that  good  feeding  and  warm  hous- 
ing are  absolutely  necessary  during  the  first  autumn  and  winter. 
It  is  during  the  first  year  that  you  either  make  or  mar  your  foal ; 
if  starved  or  stinted  by  neglect  during  that  period,  you  may  aban- 
don all  expectation  of  seeing  him  a good  horse,  whatever  has  been 
his  pedigree. 

The  Suffolk  Punch  is  a very  useful  horse  for  agricultural 
purposes ; in  color  yellowish  or  sorrel,  with  frequently  a white 
blaze  in  the  face,  large  head,  wide  between  the  ears,  rather  coarse 
muzzle,  long  and  straight  back,  flat  sides,  low  fore-end,  and  shoul- 
ders too  much  forward,  high  at  the  hips,  round  legs,  short  pasterns, 
deep-bellied,  and  full  barrel.  This  horse  is,  as  will  be  seen  from 
our  description,  no  beauty,  being  deficient  in  several  points  of 
symmetry ; he  is,  nevertheless,  a hardy  and  a useful  horse,  and 
one  capable  of  performing  a greater  amount  of  labor  than  many 
better-looking  animals.  He  is  also  kindly,  and  a good  feeder,  it 
being  no  ordinary  fatigue  that  will  suffice  to  put  him  off  his  feed. 
In  the  foregoing  description,  it  is  unnecessary  to  state  that  we  had 
in  our  mind’s  eye  the  original  Suffolk  Punch  horse,  and  not  the 
modern-bred  cart  horse  of  that  county.  The  old  Suffolk  Punch 
was  remarkable  for  the  willingness  and  perseverance  with  which 
he  would  pull  against  a dead  weight,  which  he  felt  could  not  be 
moved  by  his  strength.  The  present  breed  seem  to  have  been 
produced  from  a cross  with  the  Norman  stock ; they  stand  much 
higher,  and  are  of  lighter  form.  It  is  questionable  how  far  they 
may  be  regarded  as  an  improvement  upon  their  predecessors. 
The  old  Punch  breed  brought  very  high  prices  : mares  with  foals 
at  foot  have  gone  so  high  as  150  guineas;  and  100  guineas  was 
not  a very  extraordinary  price  for  a stallion.  The  present  altera- 
tion in  the  form  and  size  of  the  Suffolk  horses  is  to  be  attributed 
to  a cross  with  the  Yorkshire  half-bred  stallions : the  result  has 
been  a larger  race  and  higher  forehand  breed ; but  it  is,  as  we 
already  remarked,  questional  le  whether  the  animal  maintains  the 
valuable  qualities  of  energy  and  temper  that  he  formerly  pos- 
sessed. 


NOTES  ON  STABLE  MANAGEMENT. 


43 


CHAPTER  X. 

NOTES  ON  STABLE  MANAGEMENT. 

Some  horses  do  not  like  fowl  in  the  stable,  and  if  one  gets  into 
the  manger,  the  oats  will  frequently  be  left  untasted  ; neither  these 
birds,  nor  goats,  nor  pigs,  should  be  permitted  to  enter  the  stable. 

Human  feelings  are  not  a sufficient  guide  as  to  the  temperature 
of  a stable,  and  a thermometer  should  always  be  kept  for  that 
purpose  hanging  against  the  wall.  The  heat  should  never  exceed 
50  degrees  Fahrenheit  in  winter,  or,  if  possible,  65  degrees  in  sum- 
mer. The  stall-floor  should  not  slope  more  than  is  absolutely  ne- 
cessary to  carry  oft'  the  superfluous  moisture ; if  the  declivity  be 
too  great  the  flexor  tendons  of  both  fore  and  hind  legs  are  kept  on 
a constant  stretch,  to  the  certain  injury  of  the  horse. 

Much  of  the  ophthalmia  prevalent  amongst  horses  is  caused  by 
the  ammonia  given  off  by  the  urine  and  droppings,  but  more  es- 
pecially by  the  former.  This  is  to  be  dissipated  by  ventilation,  but 
it  may  be  absorbed  by  sulphate  of  lime  or  gypsum,  as  also  by 
muriatic  acid.  Many  farmers  conceive  that  darkness  is  an  advan- 
tage in  the  stable,  inasmuch  as  it  induces  bad  feeders  to  eat : per- 
haps they  are  not  aware  that  darkness  is  one  of  the  most  frequent 
causes  of  early  blindness,  or,  at  least,  of  considerable  injury  to  the 
sight.  Hence,  also,  a very  frequent  origin  of  stumbling  and  start- 
ing— two  faults  of  a most  unpleasant  character. 

A loose  box  or  two  are  a very  useful,  nay,  necessary  appendage 
to  every  stable  ; in  building  a new  stable,  indeed,  you  can  readily 
have  these  so  constructed  that  every  stall  will  be  convertible,  in  a 
few  minutes,  into  one.  The  box  is  most  useful  for  a fagged  and 
jaded  horse,  for  it  encourages  him  to  lie  down  and  rest ; and  to  the 
idle  horse,  for  it  encourages  him  to  walk  about,  amuse,  and  exer- 
cise himself.  A box,  at  some  distance  from  the  stable,  is  useful  in 
case  of  contagious  or  infectious  disease  ; it  is  also  useful  as  permit- 
ting of  more  variations  of  temperature  than  the  ordinary  stable, 
and  into  this — cooled  down  as  nearly  as  possible  to  the  tempera- 
ture of  the  external  air — should  every  horse  just  taken  from  gras 
be  put,  ere  being  removed  into  the  warm  stable  ; and,  vice  versa , 
ere  being  turned  out  of  the  warm  stable  to  grass,  in  spring  or  sum- 
mer. Such  a system  of  management  would  prevent  the  accession 
of  many  a cold. 


44 


HORSES. 


The  ordinary  practice  of  limiting  the  allowance  of  water  is  both 
inhuman  and  contrary  to  common  sense.  Nature  never  errs  : and 
if  water  be  left  to  the  horse’s  own  discretion,  he  will  only  take  as 
much  as  is  good  for  him.  I am  disposed  to  attribute  to  this  cur- 
tailment of  water  many  of  the  diseases  of  the  horse — as  slow  fever, 
glanders,  nasal  catarrh,  &c.  When  a horse  is  warm  with  violent 
exertion,  the  chill  had  better  be  taken  off ; but  it  is  bad  to  do  this 
by  letting  the  water  lie  in  the  stable ; it  is  better  to  add  a little 
warm  water  to  it.  In  well-conducted  racing- stables,  water  is  given 
to  the  horses  so  frequently  that  they  will  drink  but  little  at  a time : 
surely  this  is  better  than  keeping  them  so  long  thirsty  that  when 
the  water  is  given  them  they  will  fill  themselves  to  repletion. 

The  quality  of  the  water  is  also  of  primary  importance ; it  should 
be  pure,  fresh,  and  sweet.  Do  not  let  nitre  be  mixed  with  it,  unless 
when  required  as  medicine — a very  common  practice  amongst  igno- 
rant grooms,  and  occasionally  even  advocated  by  those  who  should 
know  better. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

GROOMING  AND  DRESSING. 

A few  words  in  reference  to  cleaning  and  dressing.  The  or- 
dinary farm-horse,  at  work  all  day  and  turned  out  at  night,  requires 
little  more  grooming  than  a mb  down  with  a wisp  of  straw,  and 
the  removal  of  mud  and  dirt  from  his  limbs  ; hardiness  is  neces- 
sary to  the  existence  of  this  horse,  and  a regular  system  of  groom- 
ing would  only  render  the  skin  more  sensitive,  and  the  horse  more 
susceptible  of  cold.  But  it  is  of  the  stable  and  the  stabled  horse 
that  we  are  more  immediately  treating,  and  it  is  to  him — deprived, 
as  he  is,  to  a great  extent,  of  exercise — that  grooming  is  most  neces- 
sary, in  order  to  cleanse  away  the  scurf  that  obstructs  the  pores, 
and  thus  admitting  of  free  perspiration,  and  promoting  circulation 
towards  the  extremities. 

There  are  two  ways  by  which  a fine,  glossy  coat  may  be  pro- 
duced— by  heat  and  by  dressing.  The  former  produces  it  at  the 
expense  of  the  animal’s  health  ; the  latter  is,  on  the  other  hand, 
highly  conducive  to  health.  The  pioprietor  should  therefore  see 
that  the  fine  coat  of  his  hunter  or  riding-horse  is  produced  by  fair, 


GROOMING  AND  DRESSING. 


45 


honest  rubbing,  and  the  free  use  of  the  curiycomb,  and  not  by 
heated  stabling  and  warm  sheeting.  Horses  should,  as  a matter 'of 
course,  be  dressed  every  morning ; the  cleaning  they  receive  after 
work  s quite  an  extra  matter.  With  horses  that  possess  a very 
tender  skin,  the  use  of  the  currycomb  may  be  dispensed  with,  and 
the  brush  or  haircloth  glove  substituted  for  it.  If  you  wish  to  as- 
certain whether  or  not  your  horse  has  been  properly  dressed,  rub 
his  coa*  with  one  of  your  fingers ; if  a greasy  stain  be  present, 
your  groom  has  slurred  over  his  task. 

It  is  in  winter  that  the  neglect  of  grooming,  or  its  slovenly  per- 
formance will  produce  the  worst  effects  on  the  horse,  and  with  the 
greatest  rapidity.  On  a horse  coming  in  in  dirty  weather,  the  mud 
should  be  first  removed ; this  is  usually  done  in  two  ways — first, 
by  scraping  it  away  with  the  sweat-knife,  and  finishing  with  the 
currycomb  ana  brush  ; secondly,  by  washing  it  away.  The  best 
mode  of  doing  .»*,  however,  is,  first  of  all  to  remove  all  the  mud 
and  loose  water,  by  the  aid  of  the  knife ; and  then,  should  the 
horse  be  warm,  walk  him  about  for  a quarter  of  an  hour  or  so ; 
then  use  the  wisp,  and  rub  him  dry ; wash  the  feet  and  legs,  pick 
the  soles,  look  at  the  shoes,  rub  the  feet  and  legs  dry — this  is  a 
most  important  consideration,  and  one  that  is  generally  too  much 
neglected,  hence  giving  rise  to  many  severe  colds,  inflammations, 
and  often  grease.  Comb  the  mane  and  tail.  These  operations  are 
terminated  by  a careful  finishing  with  dry  wisps.  When  a horse 
is  quickly  and  effectually  dried  in  the  manner  we  have  detailed, 
there  is  not  the  slightest  danger  of  his  catching  cold  ; but  there 
may  occur — in  very  rare  instances,  certainly — but  still  there  may 
occur, — cases  where  the  horse  cannot  be  thus  groomed,  but  must 
be  put  up  in  the  wet  state  in  which  he  came  off  the  road. 

In  these  cases  we  resort  to  clothing  ; this  is  never  to  be  resorted 
to  where  it  is  possible  to  groom,  and  is  on  no  account  to  be  regarded 
as  offering  a substitute  for  manual  friction  ; it  is  merely  to  be  re- 
garded as  an  expedient — a last  resource,  better  than  absolute  neg- 
lect ; it  may,  however,  be  well  to  know  that  such  a resource  exists. 
The  object  of  clothing,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  acts  as  a pre- 
ventive against  a wet  or  over-heated  horse  catching  cold,  are  as 
follow  : cold  is  caught  in  consequence  of  the  sudden  cooling  down 
of  the  body  at  the  surface,  producing  increased  action  of  the  respira- 
tory and  vasculatory  system ; in  order  to  the  supply  of  the  defi- 
ciency of  animal  heat  thus  produced,  inflammation  of  those  organs, 
or  some  portion  of  their  attendant  apparatus,  consequently  takes 


40 


HOUSES. 


place.  The  cooling  of  the  surface  is  caused  by  the  evaporation  ; 
the  more  rapid  the  evaporation,  the  more  sudden  and  severe  the 
chill.  The  clothing  then  acts,  by  preventing  or  retarding  evapora- 
tion ; the  horse  consequently  loses  heat  so  slowly  that  his  natural 
vigor  is  able  to  keep  up  the  necessary  supply — in  short,  he  never 
becomes  chilled.  The  clotliing  also  absorbs  some  of  the  superfluous 
moisture ; it  should  be  woolen,  and  thrown  loosely  over  the  body — 
not  strapped  down  upon  it,  as  that  is  apt  to  excite  undue  perspira- 
tion. 

All  horses  are  more  or  less  liable  to  injury  from  cold ; to  be  sure, 
horses  will  constantly  be  seen  exposed  to  all  the  severity  of  the 
most  severe  weather,  and  yet  escape ; such  have  been  probably 
gradually  inured  to  exposure ; and  the  power  of  the  animal  system 
to  accommodate  itself  to  circumstances  is  very  great ; but  surely  a 
little  trouble  is  preferable  to  great  risk,  especially  when  valuable 
horses  are  concerned.  A wet  horse  requires  most  care  when  he 
has  been  heated  by  his  work.  Before  he  has  been  heated  he  might 
stand  in  cold,  or  with  his  coat  wet,  for,  perhaps,  half-an-hour,  with- 
out experiencing  any  ill  effects  ; but,  after  perspiring  pretty  freely 
from  exertion,  exposure,  without  exercise,  to  a cold  atmosphere,  for 
fifteen  minutes,  will  do  him  more  mischief  than  similar  exposure 
for  an  hour  would  have  caused  him  before  the  exertion  : in  the 
former  case  he  would  have  had  cough  next  day — in  the  latter,  he 
would  probably  be  nothing  the  worse. 

When  a horse  has  contracted  mischief  from  the  exposure,  the 
first  symptom  is  generally  a staring  of  the  coat.  When  you  per- 
ceive this,  let  the  animal  be  at  once  put  into  a warm  stable,  and 
warmly  clothed ; or,  if  the  weather  be  favorable,  let  him  be  at 
once  put  into  motion.  Your  object  is,  to  restore  the  vital  heat — 
to  produce  a healthy  reaction  in  place  of  chilliness  and  prostration. 
If  shivering — which  usually  next  shows  itself,  if  you  have  not 
attended  to  the  matter  in  time — should  supervene,  you  will  have 
to  administer  hot  drink,  and  to  clothe  the  horse  with  flannel  sheet- 
ing, previously  warmed  ; friction  with  the  hair-glove,  in  the  warm 
stable,  especially  u‘  :der  the  belly  and  behir  i the  joints,  will  be 
useful , 


A FEW  WORDS  TO  FARMERS. 


47 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A FEW  WORDS  TO  FARMERS. 

It  is  a bad  practice  to  take  a horse  from  the  plow  or  cart,  and 
put  a saddle  on  his  back  ; but  it  is  quite  a different  thing  for  the 
farmer  to  keep  for  his  own  riding,  a stout,  well-formed  horse,  that, 
should  a demand  for  extra  horse  labor  at  any  time  arise,  can  be 
put  into  the  plow  or  cart  with  a confidence  that,  in  that  capacity, 
it  will  work  well  and  willingly. 

While  on  this  subject  I think  a word  of  caution  necessary.  I 
have  known  farmers  breed  from  mares  only  because  they  were  use- 
less. I have  known  a mare  whose  health  incapacitated  her  from 
work,  and  who  had,  consequently,  to  be  turned  out  to  grass  for  the 
season,  put  to  the  horse  that  her  services  might  not  be  wholly  lost ! 
The  infirmities  of  the  mare  are  perpetuated  in  her  wretched  off- 
spring— they  become  hereditary,  and  the  breeder  at  length  finding 
his  pockets  the  worse  for  his  experiment,  gives  up  with  the  reflec- 
tion that  “ horse-breeding  is  a losing  concern.”  No  mare,  however 
good,  should  be  bred  from,  without  a careful  and  deliberate  con- 
sideration of  her  qualifications  as  a brood-mare  ; and  this  is  a point 
wherein  many  farmers  err  greatly.  A person  has  a mare  which 
has  proved  a valuable  servant,  and  which  is,  consequently,  a favor- 
ite : he  wishes,  if  possible,  to  “ preserve  her  breed,”  and  accord- 
ingly takes  a foal  out  of  her,  after,  perhaps,  a long  life  of  toil. 
Another  mistake  is  the  following,  and  it  is  a common  one  : a man 
sees  a handsome  horse,  and  takes  a fancy  to  him  ; he  happens  to 
possess  a mare,  it  is  the  season,  and  without  a moment’s  considera- 
tion of  how  far  that  individual  mare  is  suited  for  that  individual 
horse,  he  puts  her  to  him,  and  obtains — what  ? a mongrel  nonde- 
script, presenting  a combination  of  bad  qualities,  and  not  one  re- 
deeming point.  Both  parents  must  be  selected  with  a reference 
not  only  to  their  respective  points  of  excellence,  but  to  the  relative 
adaptation  which  the  points  of  one  present  to  the  points  of  the 
other.  Both  may  be  excellent  in  their  way,  but  one  parent  may 
possess  points  of  excellence  which  actually  counteract  those  of  the 
other.  Breed  from  none  but  sound  parents : accidents,  however, 
are  not  to  be  regarded  as  unsoundness  ; but  in  purchasing  a mare 
for  breeding,  it  is  necessary  to  be  perfectly  certain  that  the  defect, 
if  such  exist,  be  a mere  accident,  and  not  a congenital  mal-forma* 


48 


HORSES. 


tion.  See  that  both  parents  are  as  free  from  moral  as  from  physi- 
cal infirmity,  from  faults  or  vices  of  temper  or  disposition.  A defect 
of  one  parent  may  sometimes,  however,  tvs  removed,  or  rendered 
null,  by  the  other  possessing  a counteracting  excellence  to  a pre- 
ponderating extent ; but,  above  all  things,  take  care  that  the  same 
defect  be  not  possessed  by  both  parents.  Make  up  your  mind  as 
to  the  description  of  animal  you  intend  to  breed.  Nothing  is  more 
unsatisfactory,  or  so  likely  to  turn  out  an  unprofitable  speculation, 
as  breeding  a nondescript — a brute  fit  neither  for  the  carriage  nor 
the  plow — for  the  saddle  nor  the  cart ; and  it  is,  with  some  few  ex- 
ceptions, within  the  power  of  the  breeder,  by  a judicious  selection 
of  parents,  to  insure  a certain  offspring.  Few  things  are  more  cer- 
tain than  horse-breeding;  for  the  rule,  “like  produces  like,”  in 
most  cases  holds  good  from  generation  to  generation.  It  is  better 
to  be  on  the  safe  side,  and  to  avoid  even  such  mares  as  have  suf- 
fered from  accidents. 


CHAPTER  XHI. 

HINTS  ABOUT  BREEDING. 

The  best  form  of  a mare  from  which  to  breed,  for  any  purpose, 
is  a short-legged,  lengthy  animal,  with  a deep,  roomy  chest  and 
carcase,  wide  and  capacious  hips,  and  a sound  constitution  ; such 
is  the  mare  best  calculated  to  perform  the  important  functions  of 
generation  and  nutrition.  Few  mares  are  more  objectionable  than 
tall,  gawky,  leggy  animals,  whose  carcase  you  will  invariably  find 
proportionably  confined  and  deficient  in  depth  and  room.  Then, 
of  course,  we  must  look  for  “breed,”  according  to  the  class  of 
horses  to  which  your  mare  belongs ; a good  animated  counte- 
nance, an  upright  sprightly  carriage ; general  structure  of  mus- 
cle, bone  and  sinew  firm,  dense,  and  compact ; such  a horse  will  do 
three  times  as  good  a day’s  work  as  an  ill-bred,  ill-made  garron. 
Some  persons  seem  to  set  light  value  on  the  form  of  the  head  of 
a brood-mare ; but  the  head  of  every  animal  is  the  point  where 
good  or  ill-breeding  will  be  most  obviously  indicated.  A mare 
that  has  a heavy  head  and  a stupid  countenance  cannot  breed  a 
good  foal,  unless  to  a horse  possessed  of  fire  almost  to  madness, 
for  her  countenance  is  an  index  to  her  disposition. 


HINTS  ABOUT  BREEDING. 


49 


The  neck  should  be  brought  out  of  the  top  of  the  withers,  and 
not  of  the  bottom  of  the  shoulders  and  chest ; this  is  a common 
fault,  but  one  to  be  avoided.  The  shoulders  should  lie  well  back ; 
the  scapula,  or  blade  bone,  lying  obliquely  from  the  shoulder 
joint ; the  blade  should  also  be  long  and  wide,  and  extend  nearly 
to  the  top  of  the  withers,  but  attached  so  closely,  and  so  well 
covered  with  muscle  as  not  to  present  any  remarkable  promi- 
nence ; the  back  of  the  shoulder  should  be  well  furnished  with 
muscle,  and  it  should  appear  to  the  mounted  rider,  of  a wedge- 
shape,  widening  towards  his  knee  ; the  fore-leg  should  be  perpen- 
dicular, the  toe  and  the  point  of  the  shoulder  being  in  a right 
line ; the  foot  should  be  round,  even,  and  of  a dark  color ; the 
heels  should  be  open,  but  not  low  ; the  brisket  should  be  deep, 
this  especially  applies  to  a riding-horse,  as  otherwise  a crupper 
will  be  necessary  to  keep  the  saddle  in  its  proper  place ; the 
quarters  should  be  long,  and  oval  on  the  top  ; in  a brood-mare, 
too  much  latitude  cannot  be  allowed  to  the  hips  ; but  too  wide 
hips  in  a stallion  are  an  ugly  and  objectionable  point ; attend  to 
the  hocks,  and  see  that  the  shank-bone  and  sinew,  both  before 
and  behind,  be  well  developed,  and  dropped  straight  below  the 
joint.  Horses  with  steep  pasterns  are  seldom  comfortable  road- 
sters. 

Foals  produced  from  a well-selected  mare,  by  a suitable  stallion, 
may  be  worked  from  their  third  to  their  sixth  year ; they  may  be 
then  sold,  and  they  will  be  found  amply  to  repay  their  breeder. 
Breeding  injudiciously  is,  on  the  other  hand,  like  flinging  you r 
money  into  the  ocean  ; you  can  risk  as  much  as  you  please,  but 
you  will  rarely  see  a return.  It  will  sometimes  happen  that  a 
farmer,  from  a deficiency  of  pasture,  may  be  unable  to  breed ; 
and  instead  of  doing  so,  may  purchase  young  colts  of  good 
quality  at  from  two  to  three  years  old,  and  rear  them  to  a proper 
age  for  sale.  The  advantage  of  this  system  is  questionable,  espe- 
cially if  the  cause  of  its  adoption  has  been  deficiency  of  pasture ; 
for  the  best  possible  plan  of  making  up  young  horses  for  sale  is 
to  turn  them  into  good  grass,  taking  them  up  only  about  a week 
before  they  are  to  be  sold,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  them  a coat, 
reducing  their  carcase,  and  teaching  them  to  lead ; at  all  events, 
it  is  certain  that  to  deal  in  this  manner  successfully  requires  no 
small  amount  of  knowledge  of  the  animal,  and  of  the  tricks  to 
which  jockeys  are  in  the  habit  of  resorting,  as  well  as  no  incon- 
siderable capital. 


60 


HORSES. 


The  age  at  which  a mpre  should  be  put  to  the  horse  is  from 
three  years  upwards.  Some  have  injudiciously  bred  at  an  earlier 
age,  and  disappointment  has  been  the  result.  Mr.  Youatt  says, 
that  if  the  mare  have  been  lightly  worked,  she  may  be  used  for 
breeding  until  she  is  twenty.  We  question  whether  breeding 
from  any  mare  over  twelve  years  old,  at  the  very  utmost,  will 
prove  satisfactory.  If  you  desire  a large  colt,  have  a large  mare  ; 
her  size  has,  in  general,  more  to  do  in  the  matter  than  the  size  of 
the  male  parent.  The  most  favorable  time  for  putting  the  mare 
to  the  horse  is  from  March  to  the  beginning  of  May : the  reason 
of  this  is,  that  the  time  of  foaling  will  be  thus  regulated,  and  tho 
earlier  after  the  beginning  of  March  that  a mare  foals,  the  more 
profitable ; the  colts  foaled  in  March  are  generally  found  to  turn 
out  hardier,  and  to  stand  better,  than  those  foaled  earlier.  A mare 
may  be  with  advantage  rested  for  ten  days  after  having  had  the 
horse,  and  may  then  be  worked  as  usual,  lightening  her  work, 
however,  as  pregnancy  advances.  When  the  period  of  foaling 
approaches  to  within  about  a fortnight,  the  mare  should  be  dis- 
continued working,  and  turned  into  the  best  pasture  on  the  farm  ; 
a few  weeks’  high  feeding  at  this  period  will  not  only  nourish  the 
foal  which  she  is  carrying,  but  will  furnish  her  with  a supply  of 
nourishment  for  it  against  its  birth.  The  pasture  into  which  the 
mare  is  turned  should  also  be  well  provided  with  sweet  water,  and 
with  shelter.  The  thoroughbred  mare  being  of  a more  artificial 
constitution,  demands  some  extra  care  at  the  period  of  foaling,  and 
requires  to  be  taken  up  and  put  into  a loose  box ; she  should  also 
have  a couple  of  feeds  of  grain  in  the  day.  This  is  the  period 
when  abortion  usually  occurs ; the  eye,  therefore,  of  the  owner 
should  be  constantly  on  the  mare.  Moderate  exercise  and  good 
feeding  are  about  the  best  preventives.  Mr.  Youatt  observes,  that 
the  imagination  exercises  a powerful  influence  on  mares,  and  there- 
fore a mare  liable  to  abortion  should  not  be  kept  with  others  that 
have  gone  to  the  fifth  or  sixth  month,  lest  her  example  should 
infect  them  with  the  disease. 

Should  the  mare  experience  any  difficulty  in  delivery,  it  is  advi- 
sable in  every  case  to  call  in  a regularly  educated  veterinary  sur- 
geon, and  on  no  account  to  permit  the  rude  quackery  of  itinerant 
“ horse-doctors,”  as  they  style  themselves.  Many  a valuable  mare, 
and  many  a foal,  has  been  thus  lost.  After  foaling,  the  mare 
should  be  again  turned  into  a good  pasture,  well  supplied  with 
water  and  shelter ; and  if  she  have  foaled  early,  say  in  April,  and 


HINTS  ABOUT  BREEDING. 


51 


the  grass  is  scanty,  let  her  have  a feed  or  two  cf  oats  or  Indian 
corn  per  day ; if  the  corn  be  given  in  a trough  upon  the  ground, 
the  foal  will  partake  of  it  along  with  its  dam.  When  the  grass 
becomes  plentiful,  the  corn  may  be  diminished,  or  even  discon- 
tinued. The  proper  care  of  young  foals  will  repay  a hundred- 
fold : this  is,  in  short,  the  most  critical  period  of  the  animal’s 
life,  and  when  attention  or  its  reverse  produces  the  most  striking 
and  lasting  results. 

If  it  answer  the  convenience  of  the  farmer,  the  foal  may  be  per- 
mitted to  run  for  twelve  months  at  the  foot  of  the  mare ; but 
when  mares  are  kept  expressly  for  breeding  purposes,  many  cir- 
cumstances combine  to  render  this  objectionable.  Within  about 
six  weeks  from  foaling,  the  mare  will  be  again  at  heat,  and  should 
be  put  to  the  horse ; she  may  then  also  resume  light  work.  At 
first  the  foal  should  be  shut  up  in  the  stable  during  working 
hours,  but  as  it  acquires  sufficient  strength,  it  is  better  to  allow  it 
to  follow  its  dam.  The  work  will  contribute  to  the  health  of  the 
mother,  and  increase  her  flow  of  milk,  and  by  accompanying  her 
the  foal  will  suck  more  frequently,  thrive  better,  acquire  tame- 
ness— no  slight  consideration — and  will  become  gradually  fami- 
liarized with  the  objects  among  which  it  is  afterwards  to  live. 
Under  these  circumstances,  the  foal  may,  if  the  farmer  chooses,  be 
weaned  at  the  age  of  six  months.  For  this  purpose,  it  should  be 
either  housed,  or  turned  into  some  pasture  or  rick-yard  at  a dis- 
tance from  the  dam.  The  latter  should  also  get  a few  purgatives, 
in  order  to  remove  the  milk,  and  the  foal  should  be  well  and  libe- 
rally fed  every  morning  and  evening.  Bruised  oats  and  bran  are 
about  the  best  description  of  feeding  that  could  be  adopted,  and 
towards  the  end  of  summer  the  foal  may  be  turned  out  to  gene- 
ral pasture  without  fear  of  his  again  seeking  his  dam.  Too  much 
pampering  will,  however,  prove  as  injudicious  as  neglect,  and 
should  consequently  be  equally  avoided.  Should  the  foal  be  a 
male,  and  emasculation  be  desirable,  it  is  a good  plan  to  perform 
the  operation  at  the  period  of  weaning,  in  order  that  the  one 
trouble  shall  serve  for  both  occasions  This,  however,  must  not  be 
done  if  weaning  have  taken  place  in  the  months  of  June  or  July, 
when  the  fly  abounds,  which,  by  its  attacks,  will  promote  restless- 
ness and  consequent  inflammation,  and  retard  convalescence. 
Early  spring,  or  an  advanced  period  of  the  autumn,  are  the  best 
periods.  Let  no  itinerant  impostor,  or  village  quack,  be  the  ope- 
rator, unless  you  really  desire  to  lose  your  colt.  Call  in  a regular 


62 


HORSES. 


veterinary  surgeon ; leave  the  operation  in  his  hands,  and  \ttend 
implicitly  to  his  directions  as  to  after-treatment.  Nothing  is  more 
unwise,  as  well  as  unfair,  than  to  neglect  the  directions  given  by 
the  operator,  which  may  produce  perhaps  fatal  results,  and  then 
blame  him,  and  perhaps  cast  an  undeserved  slur  upon  his  pro- 
fessional character.  Indeed,  for  the  sucking  foal,  scarcely  any  fur- 
ther after-treatment  than  simple  quiet  is  necessary,  but  bleeding 
and  the  exhibition  of  aperients  are  advisable  for  a colt  of  more 
advanced  age. 

One  thing  deserves  mention  : when  a horse  is  suffered  to  attain 
two-thirds  of  his  growth,  prior  to  emasculation,  you  obtain  an  ani- 
mal of  far  superior  form,  power,  and  value,  to  that  which  has  been 
operated  upon  when  a foal.  It  is  well  to  bear  this  in  mind,  yet  I 
cannot  but  cordially  condemn  the  practice  of  emasculating  horses 
at  all. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  ART  OF  BREAKING  OR  TRAINING. 

The  next  part  of  the  rearing  consists  in  breaking.  There  is  no 
greater  mistake  than  to  postpone  this.  It  should,  in  fact,  be  com- 
menced at  the  very  period  of  weaning,  or  as  soon  as  the  effects  of 
castration  have  passed  away ; it  should,  in  this  manner  be  com- 
menced and  prosecuted  gradually,  with  gentleness  and  kindness. 
Let  the  young  animal  be  daily  handled,  caressed,  and  led  about, 
and  let  him  occasionally  be  rubbed  down,  and  even  at  times  tied 
up  for  an  hour  or  so.  The  man  who  feeds  the  colt  should  have 
the  entire  management  of  him  at  this  time,  and  he  should  be  a re- 
spectable person,  characterized  by  equanimity  of  temper  and  a 
kindly  disposition.  Half  the  battle  in  horse  training  consists  in 
this  early  management ; many  a horse  is  spoiled  and  rendered 
permanently  intractable  by  early  harshness  or  improper  treatment, 
and  many  a horse  that  might  otherwise  have  turned  out  a vicious, 
unmanageable  brute,  has  been  moulded  into  a gentle,  affectionate, 
and  useful  servant  by  the  judicious  treatment  of  those  who  first  in- 
ducted him  into  the  knowledge  of  his  duty. 

For  the  first  year  such  treatment  will  suffice ; after  the  second 
winter  the  operation  of  trairing  may  commence  in  good  earnest. 


THE  ART  OF  TRAINING. 


63 


The  horse  must  be  lirst  bitted,  but  the  bit  at  first  used  must  be 
small,  and  of  such  form  as  will  not  hurt  his  mouth.  The  work  ot 
bitting  may  occupy  three  or  four  days.  When  the  colt  becomes 
accustomed  to  the  bit,  he  may  then  have  two  long  ropes  attached 
to  it,  slightly  fastened  to  his  sides  by  a loose  girth  over  the  back, 
and  his  feeder  may  thus  drive  him,  as  it  were,  round  a field,  pulling 
upon  him  as  he  proceeds.  This  will  act  as  a first  lesson  in  draught. 
If  intended  as  a saddle  horse,  a filled  bag  may  be  thrown  across 
his  back  and  secured  there,  and  after  a while,  when  he  has  become 
used  to  this,  a crotch  may  be  fastened  upon  his  back,  the  inferior 
extremities  grasping  his  sides,  and  thus  inuring  him  to  the  legs  of 
a rider. 

Portions  of  harness  may  now,  from  time  to  time,  be  added,  the 
winkers  being  kept  for  the  last.  He  may  now  be  put  in  a team, 
and  it  is  better  he  should  be  one  of  three,  having  one  before  him 
and  the  shaft  horse  behind  him.  It  is  best  to  begin  draught  on 
grass,  where  the  colt  will  not  be  frightened  with  the  noise  of  the 
wheels.  He  has  enough  to  occupy  his  thoughts  without  that,  and 
the  grand  secret  consists  in  not  hurrying  or  confusing  him.  Let 
everything  proceed  gradually  and  by  successive  stages,  and  above 
all,  let  me  entreat  that  no  whip  or  harsh  language  be  permitted  to 
be  used. 

Breeders  of  horses  are  very  apt  to  fall  into  a common  fault,  viz., 
ff  postponing  the  breaking  of  them  to  a period  comparatively  ad- 
vanced, and  then  fancying  that  the  training  can  be  at  once  perfect- 
ed. We  have  endeavored  to  show  that  the  work  of  training  should 
be  a gradual  and  progressive  one,  and  that  it  should  rather  consist 
of  a consecutive  system  of  judicious  management  than  be  converted 
into  a separate  piece  of  business,  suddenly  undertaken  and  summa- 
rily performed.  If  the  colt  has  been  treated  as  we  have  recom- 
mended, much  subsequent  trouble  will  be  saved  his  owner ; and  if 
it  were  generally  so  treated,  there  would  be  fewer  instances  of  vice 
and  sulkiness  displayed  by  the  adult  horse. 

All  horses,  especially  such  as  are  required  for  agricultural  pur- 
poses, should  be  broken  into  the  saddle  as  well  as  to  harness. 
This  is  easily  effected  when  once  the  animal  has  suffered  himself 
to  be  yoked  in  the  team,  as  already  described.  Let  his  accustomed 
feeder  and  handler  be  the  first  to  mount  him ; there  is  no  doubt 
that  the  colt  will  suffer  him  to  do  so  without  struggling,  and  gen- 
tleness alone  is  requisite  to  complete  the  lesson  thus  auspiciously 
begun.  At  the  same  time  that  mildness  is  absolutely  necessary,  it 


54 


HORSES. 


is  not  the  less  essential  that  the  colt  be  taught  implicit  obedience  to 
the  will  of  its  master.  For  this  purpose,  however,  neither  the 
whip  nor  spur  must  be  employed,  nor  must  he  be  shouted  or  hal- 
loed at ; nothing  is  required  but  firmness,  steadiness,  and  patience 
• — the  three  great  requisites  in  a successful  horsebreaker. 

When  the  colt  has  acquired  the  art  of  drawing  and  carrying,  it 
will  be  time  to  instruct  him  in,  perhaps,  the  most  difficult  part  of 
his  duty — backing.  This  must  be  done  cautiously  at  first,  by  the 
long  rope,  and  gradually.  Let  first  a light  cart,  and  then  a loaded 
one  be  added ; let  care  be  taken  not  to  hurt  the  mouth  with  the 
bit ; many  a good  and  valuable  horse  has  been  spoiled  by  this  bad 
management.  Patience  and  gentleness  will  effect  everything ; a 
contrary  course  of  treatment  will  generate  vice.  Few,  it  may 
almost  be  said,  no  horses,  are  naturally  vicious.  It  is  cruel  usage 
which  has  first  provoked  resistance.  That  resistance  has  been  fol- 
lowed by  greater  severity,  and  the  stubbornness  of  the  animal  has 
increased.  Open  warfare  has  ensued,  in  which  the  man  has  seldom 
gained  advantage,  and  the  horse  has  been  frequently  rendered  un- 
serviceable. Correction  may  or  must  be  used,  to  enforce  implicit 
obedience  after  the  education  has  proceeded  to  a certain  extent,  but 
the  early  lessons  should  be  inculcated  with  kindness  alone.  Young 
colts  are  sometimes  very  perverse.  Many  days  will  occasionally 
pass  before  they  will  permit  the  bridle  to  be  put  on,  or  the  saddle 
to  be  worn ; and  one  act  of  harshness  will  double  or  treble  this 
time.  Patience  and  kindness,  however,  will  always  prevail. 

A similar  system  is  to  be  observed  in  breaking  horses  for  hunt- 
ing or  racing,  and  at  about  three  years  old  the  regular  course  of 
training  may  be  begun.  The  colt  is  first  accustomed  to  be  led, 
and  to  endure  the  rein  ; he  is  then  led  upon  soft  ground.  He  is 
next  mounted,  and  gradually  taught  his  several  paces,  from  the 
walk  to  the  trot,  canter,  and  gallop.  Each  portion  of  the  colt’s 
duty  should  constitute  a separate  lesson,  and  be  taught  him  per- 
fectly and  thoroughly  before  proceeding  to  the  next.  The  earlier 
lessons  should  be  short ; but  as  the  animal’s  education  advances, 
they  may  be  increased  in  length,  always,  however,  taking  care  not 
to  push  them  to  such  a pitch  as  to  produce  absolute  fatigue  or  dis- 
gust. 

When  accustomed  to  his  paces,  the  colt  may  gradually  be 
brought  into  the  thoroughfare,  and  at  length  into  the  street.  In 
this,  of  'course,  much  caution  must  be  used  ; and  if  the  young  pa- 
tient display  s)  1 lptoms  of  shying  at  any  object,  he  must  be  cau- 


BREEDING  AND  GENERAL  MANAGEMENT. 


55 


tiously  brought  :o  approach  it,  and  made  sensible  of  its  innocuous 
nature.  We  have  now  done  enough  in  explaining  the  principle; 
any  man  of  common  understanding,  united  with  a moderate  share 
of  tact,  courage,  and  skill  in  riding,  can  effect  the  rest. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

FEEDING  AND  GENERAL  MANAGEMENT. 

Half  the  disorders  to  which  horses  are  subject  may  be  traced 
to  improper  or  careless  management,  which  principally  runs  into 
two  extremes — 1st,  too  close  confinement  in  ill-ventilated  stables  ; 
2d,  want  of  sufficient  shelter,  and  exposure  to  all  weathers,  and  at 
all  seasons  in  the  open  fields.  If,  however,  it  were  absolutely 
necessary  to  run  into  either  extreme,  we  should  say  that  of  the  two 
the  former  is  most  certain  to  produce  bad  consequences,  and  we 
would  prefer  risking  the  chances  of  the  latter.  Half  the  diseases 
of  the  horse  owe  their  origin  to  the  causes  just  recited,  the  other 
half  may  be  assigned  to  over-feeding  with  hay.  This  applies  more 
particularly  to  young  horses,  and  to  such  as  are  not  put  to  severe 
work.  They  are  ever  placed  before  a full  rack,  and  just  as 
children  with  bread  and  butter,  they  eat  merely  for  amusement, 
until  at  length  the  stomach  gradually  becomes  preternaturally  dis- 
tended, the  appetite  gradually  increases  in  a relative  proportion., 
becomes  sooner  or  later  voracious,  and  finally  merges  into  a mere 
craving — it  being  a matter  of  indifference  what  the  food  is,  so  that 
the  stomach  is  filled  by  it.  This  depravity  of  appetite  is  always 
accompanied  by  more  or  less  thirst.  This  naturally  enough  pro- 
duces general  debility  of  the  entire  digestive  function,  including 
stomach,  bowels,  liver,  spleen,  and  pancreas  ; worms  are  produced 
in  thousands,  and  symptoms  present  themselves,  of  so  many  varied 
hues,  that  enumeration,  far  less  classification,  were  utterly  im- 
possible. 

A horse’s  appetite  is  not  to  be  taken  as  the  criterion  by  which 
to  determine  the  quantity  of  hay  he  is  to  be  permitted  to  consume^ 
for  most  horses  will  eat  three  or  four  times  as  much  as  they  ought. 
Horses  have  been  known  to  consume  thirty  pounds  weight  of  hay 
between  a day  and  a night,  and  ten  pounds  is  the  most  that  should 
have  been  given  during  that  time.  Upon  eight  pounds  of  hay 


56 


HOESES. 


daily,  with  a due  allowance  of  oats,  a horse  can  be  kept  in  full 
work,  in  prime  health  and  spirits.  It  is  better  to  keep  young 
horses  at  grass  until  about  five  years  old,  and  to  work  them  during 
that  period.  When  kept  in  the  stable  and  not  worked,  they  are 
apt  to  acquire  many  very  bad  habits  ; and  if  the  rack  and  manger 
be  kept  empty,  with  a view  to  prevent  their  overloading  their 
stomachs,  they  will  fall  into  a habit  of  playing  with  and  mouthing 
them — a habit  which  will  finally  degenerate  into  wind-sucking  or 
crib-biting. 

As  to  the  Stable.  The  greatest  desideratum  in  a stable  is 
ventilation.  A horse  requires  air  equally  with  his  master  ; and  as 
the  latter  requires  a chimney  to  his  sleeping  apartment,  so  does  the 
former.  The  chimney  may  be  a mere  outlet  opening  through  the 
ceiling,  or  it  may  be  formed  as  a dome  or  cupola.  It  should  not, 
of  course,  be  open  at  top , or  rain  will  get  in,  but  roofed  over,  and 
have  an  opening  at  the  sides.  Besides  this,  there  should  be 
openings  in  the  wall,  near  the  ground,  but  not  in  the  stalls.  This 
will  produce  a thorough  air,  and  may  be  so  placed  as  not  to  ex- 
pose the  horses  to  draught.  The  stables  should  not  be  less  than 
twelve  feet  high,  from  floor  to  ceiling,  and  the  former  should  be 
well  paved,  slope  slightly  backwards,  and  along  the  back  of  the 
stalls  should  run  a gutter,  about  a foot  wide  and  an  inch  or  two 
deep.  No  stable  should  be  less  than  eighteen  feet  deep,  and  each 
stall  should  be  at  least  six  feet  clear ; but  if  eight  feet  can  be 
afforded,  so  much  the  better.  Although  some  horses  will  agree 
when  kept  together  in  the  one  stall,  it  is  far  better  to  give  each  a 
stall  to  himself.  The  manger  should  be  about  sixteen  inches  deep, 
the  same  from  front  to  back,  narrower  at  bottom  than  at  top,  and 
two  feet  in  length.  The  rack  is  best  when  closed  in  front,  the 
back  part  being  an  inclined  plane  of  wood,  sloping  gradually  to- 
ward the  front,  and  terminating  about  two  feet  down.  This  rack 
effects  a considerable  saving  in  hay,  for  we  need  scarcely  remind 
our  readers  that,  in  the  common  rack,  much  of  the  hay  given  is 
dragged  down  and  trampled  in  the  litter.  It  also  prevents  the 
hay-seed  from  falling  into  the  horse’s  eyes,  for  the  rack  is  on  a 
level  with  the  manger,  and  about  three  feet  from  the  ground. 
Another  advantage  also  gained  by  this  rack  is  the  facility  with 
which  it  can  be  filled,  thus  obviating  all  necessity  for  a loft  over 
the  stable,  and,  consequently,  admitting  of  a greater  height  of 
ceiling  as  well  as  superior  ventilation. 

The  windows  and  the  doors  should  be  at  opposite  ends ; this 


BREEDING  .AND  GENERAL  MANAGEMENT. 


57 


promotes  ventilation : the  latter  should  be  divided  transversely,  at 
the  height  of  about  four  feet  from  the  ground.  The  upper  por- 
tion may  thus  be  occasionally  open.  Whitewash  is  a bad  dressing 
for  the  interior  of  a stable,  as  it  causes  too  great  a glare  of  light ; 
paint  of  a leaden  color  is  best,  and  it  can  be  washed  from  time  to 
time  with  soap  and  water.  There  should  be  a bin,  divided  pro- 
perly into  partitions,  for  oats,  beans,  <fcc.,  and  this  is  better  at  the 
back  of  the  stable. 

A few  buckets  of  water  dashed  over  the  floor  of  the  stable 
while  the  horses  are  at  work,  will  keep  all  sweet.  The  litter 

should  also  be  turned  out  to  dry,  and  a little  fresh  straw  spread 
for  the  horses  to  stale  on.  A shed  placed  beside  the  stable  is  a 
great  advantage,  on  two  accounts — it  admits  of  the  litter  being 
dried,  and  the  horse  dressed  there  in  wet  or  stormy  weather. 

A little  powdered  gypsum,  strewn  upon  the  stable  floor,  will 
also  act  by  absorbing  the  ammoniacal  gas,  and  thus  removing  both 
the  foul  smell  and  the  gas — a frequent  predisposing  cause  of  oph- 
thalmia. Should  the  ammonia,  however,  have  accumulated  in  any 
quantity,  the  speediest  and  most  efficacious  remedy,  as  a disinfect- 
ant, is  muriatic  acid. 

A few  words  as  to  horses  at  grass.  There  are  certain  months  of 
the  year  when  the  putting  the  horse  to  grass  will  be  productive  of 
decided  improvement  in  his  health,  will  invigorate  his  constitution, 
renovate  his  hoofs,  and  serve,  in  all  respects,  in  place  of  medi- 
cine. The  time  for  turning  the  horse  to  grass  is  from  the  middle 
of  May  to  the  end  of  August.  When  first  turned  out,  horses  are 
apt  to  make  too  free  with  clover  and  other  such  rank  and  luscious 
feeding,  and  they  should  not,  therefore,  be  turned  into  the  richest 
pasture  at  first.  Clover,  vetches,  sainfoin,  lucerne,  are  all  very 
excellent  descriptions  of  feeding,  whether  the  horse  be  suffered  to 
graze  them  from  the  field,  or  be  given  cut  in  his  rack  in  the  stable. 
To  these  may  be  added  Italian  rye-grass,  the  value  of  which  is  be- 
ginning to  be  appreciated  of  late  years  more  than  ever. 

If  the  weather  be  wet  or  cold,  let  the  horses  be  taken  in  during 
the  night,  and  let  the  field  be  provided  with  trees,  a shed,  or  other 
similar  shelter  from  the  rain  or  sun.  If  you  make  them  work  as 
usual,  give  a feed  of  equal  parts  of  oats  and  cut  hay  each  morn- 
ing, two  hours  before  putting  on  the  collar,  and  the  same  on  return 
from  work  before  putting  them  out.  This  is  necessary  to  working 
horses,  as  a counterpoise  to  the  green  food  which  forms  the  staple 
of  their  diet.  Much  absurdity  has  been  written  as  to  the  necessity 


68 


HORSES. 


of  bleeding,  purging,  and  what  not,  consequent  upon  every  change 
of  food : the  only  precaution  necessary  to  be  observed  is,  to  effect 
the  change  gradually,  and  to  work  the  horses.  Idleness  is  the 
cause  of  more  ailments  than  ever  change  of  diet  was  amongst 
horses  at  these  seasons.  As  winter  approaches,  the  horses-  are  to 
be  taken  up  from  grass,  both  because  at  that  season  the  herbage 
becomes  too  scant  to  afford  sufficient  food,  and  because  the  wea- 
ther is  usually  too  cold  for  constant  exposure.  There  can,  how- 
ever be  no  precise  rule  of  month  or  day  laid  down  to  direct  you : 
you  must  judge  of  your  horse’s  condition  and  capabilities,  and  of 
the  state  of  the  weather  peculiar  to  the  season.  The  first  step, 
however,  will  be  the  housing  at  night,  and  turning  out  in  the  day- 
time. 

Let  horses  be  always  fed  according  to  their  work.  The  materials, 
besides  those  we  have  enumerated,  are  various : split  peas,  split 
beans,  oats,  barley,  chaff,  chopped  straw,  potatoes,  turnips,  carrots, 
bran,  &c.  It  is  too  much  the  custom  to  feed  working  horses  ex- 
clusively upon  oats , with,  of  course,  hay  as  usual,  and  too  often  ad 
libitum.  Beans,  peas,  and  various  sorts  of  roots,  are  advantage- 
ously substituted  for  the  oats. 

You  will  hear  people  often  talk  too  much  of  hard  and  of  soft 
food ; and  you  will,  on  the  other  hand,  hear  others  cry  down  these 
expressions  as  absurd.  Some  substances  are  richer  in  chyle- pro- 
ducing powers  than  others,  while  others  possess  a greater  amount 
of  watery  or  diluent  matter.  The  former  is  hard,  the  latter  soft 
feeding.  A due  proportion  of  these  two  descriptions  of  feeding 
must  be  maintained,  if  you  wish  to  preserve  the  horse  in  health 
and  condition. 

The  common  farm-horse  often  passes  years  upon  grass  or  hay 
alone,  and,  if  not  hard  worked,  supports  himself  in  tolerable  con- 
dition. Hay  and  grass  will  not,  however,  support  a horse  in  con- 
dition under  severe  labor — some  more  nutritious,  more  condensed 
substance  is  required.  This  is  chiefly  furnished  by  the  use  of  Oats. 
Oats  are  of  a highly  nutritious  quality.  In  1,000  parts,  they  con- 
tain 750  of  nourishing  matter.  In  most  parts  of  the  continent  of 
Europe,  barley  is  the  staple  food  of  the  horse  in  lieu  of  oats.  It 
is  more  nutritious  than  oats,  containing  only  80  parts  of  non-nu- 
tritious  matter  in  every  1,000.  Barley,  however,  would  not 
appear  to  agree  with  all  constitutions,  being  of  a heating  or  inflam- 
matory tendency,  surfeit  and  mange  being  frequently  consequent 
upon  its  continued  use. 


HORSE-TAMING  AND  ITS  SECRETS. 


69 


Bran,  the  ground  husk  of  wheat,  acts  upon  the  bowels,  when 
given  occasionally,  as  a gentle  aperient ; it  must  not,  however,  be 
made  a frequent  food,  far  less  a constant  one.  Both  bran  and 
pollard  have  been  found  to  accumulate  in  the  large  intestines. 
When  bran  is  given,  let  it  be  in  the  form  of  a mash. 

Beans  contain  somewhat  less  than  600  parts  of  nutritive  mat- 
ter in  the  1,000,  but  they  are  a most  valuable  food,  eminently 
calculated  for  horses  on  hard  work.  There  is  a fact  in  connection 
with  food,  whether  as  relating  to  man  or  to  the  brute  creation, 
that  is  scarcely  even  yet  sufficiently  understood,  viz.,  that  the  food 
containing  and  showing,  by  analysis,  the  greatest  amount  of  nutri- 
tive ingredients,  is  not  of  necessity  the  most  nutritious.  Beans 
present  a remarkable  instance  of  this  fact,  and  one  worthy  of  at- 
tention. 

Peas  possess  a slight  degree  more  nutritive  matter  than  beans, 
and  are  said  to  be  less  heating.  They  should,  however,  never  be 
given  whole , but  be  always  previously  crushed.  If  swallowed 
whole,  they  are  sure  to  swell  considerably  in  the  stomach,  and 
painfully  to  distend  it.  Pea-meal  is  considered  good  food  for  the 
horse,  and  ^remedy  in  certain  diseases  of  the  urinary  organs. 

Indian  corn  in  combination  with  roots,  forms  a valuable  article 
of  diet.  Horses  will  eat  the  mess  with  an  avidity  of  appetite  cal- 
culated to  excite  surprise  at  first.  The  mess,  to  which  a little  salt 
should  invariably  be  added,  will  keep  them  in  fair  average  condi- 
tion, and  those  which  it  is  desirable  to  fatten  may  have  a small 
quantity  of  oats,  pea  or  bean  meal  added. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

HORSE-TAMING  AND  ITS  SECRETS. 

The  principal  danger  and  inconvenience  attendant  upon  vice 
in  a horse,  consists  in  the  difficulty  attendar  t upon  approaching, 
securing,  handling,  or  dressing  him.  The  situations  in  which  the 
vicious  animal  is  found  require  to  be  considered  separately — via., 
in  the  stable,  fastened  to  the  manger,  saddled,  harnessed,  or  naked 
and  at  liberty.  Previous  to  approaching  any  horse,  it  is  necessary 
to  form  some  sort  of  judgment  of  his  moral  character,  and  this 
will  be  gathered  from  his  physiognomy  and  gesture,  with  far  more 


00 


HOUSES. 


certainty  than  from  the  reports  of  those  about  him.  If  the  eyes 
be  wild  and  threatening,  if  rapid  glances  be  thrown  around,  if  the 
ears  be  thrown  backward,  be  cautious  not  only  how  you  approach, 
but  how  you  quit  him.  If  you  approach  a horse  in  the  stable,  do 
not  do  so  abruptly,  but  first  speak  to  him.  If  he  obey,  and  move 
to  one  side,  you  may  approach  up  close  to  his  shoulder,  seizing  the 
halter  in  your  hand  the  moment  you  arrive  there.  If  his  head  be 
then  kept  down  he  can  do  no  mischief,  especially  if  the  right  hand 
be  laid  on  the  horse’s  shoulder,  and  the  body  extended  so  as  to 
keep  at  a sufficient  distance  from  the  forelegs.  While  thus  held, 
the  horse  may  be  blinded,  muzzled,  hobbled,  or,  in  short,  done 
any  thing  you  please  with.  If  a vicious  horse  have  his  eyes  ban- 
daged, and  be  rapidly  turned  round  and  round  a few  times,  he 
will  become  passive,  and  this  plan  has  succeeded  where  all  other 
means  have  failed.  Never  approach  a horse  from  the  right  side ; 
it  is  from  this  side  he  kicks. 

Instances  of  persons  possessing  unwonted  power  over  horses,  are 
on  record.  In  one,  the  trainer  had  a leaden  knob  at  the  end  of 
his  whip,  and  with  this  he  struck  the  animal  on  the  nape  of  the 
neck  every  time  it  kicked,  plunged,  or  showed  any  sign  of  vice. 
This  came  on  the  creature  like  an  electric  shock ; ana  being  struck 
on  a part  so  sensitive,  it  soon  ceased  to  resist,  and  stood  for  a mo- 
ment as  if  stunned.  The  trainer  then  caressed  it,  and  spoke  to  it 
coaxingly,  and  gradually  succeeded  in  bringing  it  to  do  all  that  he 
required.  Many  a vicious  horse  has  also  been  tamed  by  being 
ridden  furiously  over  heavy  plowed  land,  until  his  strength  was 
perfectly  exhausted.  In  Germany,  it  is  a common  practice  to  sus- 
pend furious  horses  in  a frame  until  their  strength  is  exhausted. 
Starvation,  bleeding,  narcotics,  have  severally  been  tried  with  a 
view  to  taming  a vicious  horse  : these  remedies  will,  however,  be 
generally  found  to  have  only  a temporary  effect,  and  they  are 
more  or  less  calculated  to  prove  prejudicial  to  the  animal’s  health. 
I have  happened  to  make  one  or  two  notes  relative  to  extraordi- 
nary powers  of  horse-taming  possessed  by  individuals.  The  fol- 
lowing is  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Castley,  in  “ The  Veterinarian”  : — 

“ When  a young  man,  I remember  purchasing  a horse  at  a fair 
in  the  north  of  England,  that  was  offered  very  cheap,  on  account 
of  his  being  unmanageable.  It  was  said  that  nobody  could  ride 
him.  We  found  that  the  animal  objected  to  have  any  thing 
placed  on  his  back,  and  that  when  made  to  move  forward  with 
nothing  more  t lan  a saddle  on,  he  instantly  threw  himself  down 


HORSE-TAMING  AND 


ITS  SECRETS. 

f 


on 


his  side  with  great  violence,  and  would  then  J ei^pvefcTp  roll 
upon  his  back. 

“ There  was  at  that  time  in  Yorkshire,  a famous  cot  tr  breaker, 
known  by  the  name  of  Jumper,  who  was  almost  as  celebrated  ki 
that  country  for  taming  vicious  horses  intdv^subpiission,  as  the 
famed  Whisperer  was  in  Ireland.  We  putHfijs  aniiixal  into 
Jumper’s  hands,  who  took  him  away,  and  in  aFotr^tea- days 
brought  him  home  again,  certainly  not  looking  worse  in  condition, 
but  perfectly  subdued,  and  almost  as  obedient  as  a dog ; for  he 
would  lie  down  at  this  man’s  bidding,  and  only  rise  up  again  at 
his  command,  and  carry  double  or  any  thing.  I took  to  riding 
him  myself,  and  may  say  that  I was  never  better  carried  for  six 
or  eight  months,  during  which  time  he  did  not  show  the  least  vice 
whatever.  I then  sold  him  to  a Lincolnshire  farmer,  who  said 
that  he  would  give  him  a summer’s  run  at  grass,  and  show  him  as 
a very  fine  horse  at  the  great  Horncastle  fair.  Happening  to  meet 
this  gentleman  on  the  following  year,  I naturally  enough  inquired 
after  my  old  friend.  ‘ Oh,’  said  he,  4 that  was  a bad  business  : the 
horse  turned  out  a sad  rebel.  The  first  time  we  attempted  to 
mount  him,  after  getting  him  up  from  grass,  he  in  an  instant  threw 
the  man  down  with  the  greatest  violence,  pitching  him  several 
yards  over  his  head ; and  after  that  he  threw  every  one  that 
attempted  to  get  on  his  back.  If  he  could  not  throw  his  rider, 
he  would  throw  himself  down.  We  could  do  nothing  with  him. 
and  I was  obliged  at  last  to  sell  him  to  go  in  a stage-coach.’  ” 

Sullivan,  the  celebrated  Irish  horse-tamer,  whose  peculiar  method 
of  effecting  the  desired  end  procured  for  him  the  title  of  44  The 
Whisperer,”  had  a method  of  taming  horses  that  made  him  famous. 
When  sent  for  to  tame  a vicious  horse,  he  directed  the  stable  in 
which  he  and  the  subject  of  his  experiment  were -placed  to  be  shut, 
with  orders  not  to  open  the  door  until  a signal  was  given.  After 
a tite-a-tete  between  him  and  the  horse  for  about  half  an  hour, 
during  which  little  or  no  bustle  was  heard,  the  signal  was  made, 
and  on  opening  the  door  the  horse  was  seen  lying  down,  and  the 
man  by  his  side,  playing  familiarly  with  him,  like  a child  with  a 
puppy  dog.  From  that  time  he  was  found  perfectly  willing  to 
submit  to  discipline,  however  repugnant  to  his  nature  before.  Some 
saw  his  skill  tried  on  a horse  which  could  never  be  brought  to 
stand  for  a smith  to  shoe  him.  The  day  after  Sullivan’s  half-hour 
lecture,  I went,  not  without  some  incredulity,  to  the  smith’s  shop, 
with  many  other  curious  spectators,  where  we  were  eye-witnesses 


HORSES. 


62 

of  the  complete  success  of  his  art.  This,  too,  had  been  a troop- 
horse,  and  it  was  supposed,  not  without  reason,  that  after  regi- 
mental discipline  ha  1 failed,  no  other  would  be  found  availing. 
I observed  that  the  animal  seemed  afraid  whenever  Sullivan  either 
spoke  or  looked  at  him.  How  that  extraordinary  ascendency 
could  have  been  obtained,  it  isjdifficult  to  conjecture.  In  common 
cases  this  mysterious  preparation  was  unnecessary.  He  seemed  to 
possess  an  instinctive  power  of  inspiring  awe,  the  result,  perhaps, 
of  natural  intrepidity,  in  which  I believe  a great  part  of  his  art 
consisted ; though  the  circumstance  of  the  tUe-a-tete  shows  that 
upon  particular  occasions  something  more  must  have  been  added 
to  it. 

An  account  published  some  years  ago  by  Mr.  Catlin,  whose  ex- 
perience among  the  American  Indians  has  obtained  for  him  so 
much  celebrity,  bids  fair  to  solve  the  mystery,  or  at  least  to  suggest 
some  important  inferences.  He  thus  describes  the  mode  in  which 
the  Indian  tames  the  wild  horse.  “ He  coils  the  lasso  on  his  arm, 
and  gallops  fearlessly  into  the  herd  of  wild  horses.  He  soon  gets 
it  over  the  neck  of  one  of  the  number,  when  he  instantly  dismounts, 
leaving  his  own  horse,  and  runs  as  fast  as  he  can,  letting  the  lasso 
pass  out  gradually  and  carefully  through  his  hands,  until  the  horse 
falls  for  want  of  breath,  and  lies  helpless  on  the  ground.  The  In- 
dian advances  slowly  towards  the  horse’s  head,  keeping  the  lasso 
tight  upon  his  neck,  until  he  fastens  a pair  of  hobbles  on  the  ani- 
mal’s two  forefeet,  and  also  loosens  the  lasso,  giving  the  horse  a 
chance  to  breathe,  and  passing  a noose  round  the  under  jaw,  by 
which  he  gets  great  power  over  the  affrighted  animal,  that  is  rear- 
ing and  plunging  when  it  gets  breath,  and  by  which,  as  he  advances, 
hand  over  hand,  towards  the  horse’s  nose,  he  is  able  to  hold  it 
down,  and  prevent  it  from  throwing  itself  over  on  its  back.  By 
this  means  he  gradually  advances,  until  he  is  able  to  place  his  hand 
on  the  animal’s  nose,  and  over  its  eyes,  and  at  length  to  breathe 
into  its  nostrils,  when  it  soon  becomes  docile  and  conquered,  so 
that  he  has  little  else  to  do  than  to  remove  the  hobbles  from  its 
feet,  and  lead  or  ride  it  to  the  camp.  The  animal  is  so  completely 
conquered  that  it  submits  quietly  ever  after,  and  is  led  or  ridden 
away  with  very  little  difficulty.” 


VICES  AND  THE  REMEDY. 


63 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

VICES  AND  THEIR  REMEDY. 

There  are  certain  vices  peculiar  to  individual  horses,  of  a very 
annoying  character,  and  productive  of  very  unpleasant  conse- 
quences, both  to  the  animal  and  his  owner.  We  will  enumerate 
a few  of  the  most  remarkable  of  these,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
suggest  remedial  expedients. 

Crib-biting. — This  very  disagreeable  vice,  in  law,  constitutes 
unsoundness.  It  consists  in  a violent  extension  of  the  neck,  an 
attempt  to  gripe  the  manger  with  the  teeth,  and,  with  a convulsive 
action  of  the  throat,  a sucking  in  of  the  air.  Crib-biting  is  de- 
cidedly infectious,  for  one  horse  will,  to  a certainty,  contract  the 
habit  from  any  other  who  possesses  it,  if  placed  in  the  next  stall 
to  him.  The  effects  of  this  vice  are  serious.  Besides  the  injury 
to  the  teeth,  and  the  waste  of  corn  (for  the  horse  will  usually 
bite  with  a full  mouth),  much  loss  of  saliva  takes  place,  by  which 
digestion  ds,  of  course,  impaired  ; flatulence  is  also  produced  by 
the  inhalation  of  air,  and  a crib-biting  horse  is  never  so  well  up 
to  his  work  as  another. 

Many  remedial  measures  have  been  tried,  but  to  no  purpose. 
Among  these,  I may  enumerate  covering  the  edge  of  the  manger 
with  iron,  with  sheep-skin,  with  tar,  with  aloes ; a strap  round  the 
throat  has  been  recommended — it  cures  crib-biting,  but  usually 
produces,  if  possible,  a worse  affection,  viz.,  roaring. 

Turning  out  to  grass  for  a few  months  commonly  succeeds 
with  young  horses,  and  some  are  cured  by  turning  them  into  loose 
boxes.  Youatt  recommends  a muzzle,  with  bars  across  the  bot- 
tom, sufficiently  wide  to  allow  the  horse  to  get  at  his  corn,  but 
sufficiently  close  to  prevent  his  getting  hold  of  the  manger. 

Wind-sucking. — The  horse  bends  his  neck,  draws  his  head 
inward  and  downward,  and  sucks  in  the  air.  The  effects  are  the 
same  as  those  produced  by  crib- biting.  Mr.  Youatt’s  remedy  has 
been  found  successful.  It  consists  in  attaching  to  the  head  a 
leathern  strap,  with  spikes  pointing  towards  the  neck.  When  the 
horse  draws  in  his  head,  preparatory  to  sucking,  the  spikes  prick 
his  neck,  a new  and  sudden  impulse  is  given  to  his  ideas,  and  the 
attempt  at  inhalation  c ’ air  is  abandoned. 

Shying. — This  vice,  which  will  often  occasion  the  unseating  of 


64 


HORSES. 


the  best  rider,  if  taken  in  an  unguarded  moment,  proceeds  from 
several  different  causes,  and  upon  the  individual  cause  the  cura- 
tive treatment  must  depend. 

If  the  cause  be  imperfect  sight,  gentleness  and  coaxing  are  neces- 
sary. The  use  of  whip  or  spur  will  only  make  matters  worse ; 
but  if  the  horse  be  treated  with  gentleness,  and  coaxed  up  to  ex- 
amine the  object  which  terrified  him,  he  will  soon  learn  to  place 
confidence  in  his  rider,  and  his  shyness  will  gradually  disappear. 

If  the  cause  be  mere  skittishness,  severity  is  also  an  objection. 
Keep  the  mouth  well  under  command,  ride  on  without  more  notice 
of  the  matter  than  an  occasional  touch  with  the  spur ; and  when 
the  animal  perceives  that  his  pretended  fright  has  failed  to  elicit 
any  notice,  he  will  soon  weary  of  his  performance. 

If  the  cause  be  inexperience,  the  being  unacquainted  with  the 
many  new  objects  the  animal  encounters,  the  remedy  is  the  same 
as  that  just  described,  remembering  to  avoid  all  harshness,  and  to 
treat  the  animal  precisely  as  you  would  a timid  child. 

Mr.  Laurence  says — “ These  animals  generally  fix  on  some  par- 
ticular shying  butt ; for  example,  I recollect  having,  at  different 
periods,  three  hacks ; the  one  made  choice  of  a windmill  for  the 
object  or  butt ; the  other  a tilted  wagon,  and  the  last  a pig  led  in. 
a string.  I once  rode  the  two  former  when  amiss  from  a cold,  and 
they  paid  no  more  attention  to  either  windmills  or  tilted  wagons 
than  to  any  other  objects,  convincing  me  that  their  shying  when 
in  health  and  spirits  was  pure  affectation — an  affectation,  however, 
which  may  be  speedily  united  with  obstinacy  and  vice.  Let  it  be 
treated  with  marked  displeasure,  mingled  with  gentle  but  decided 
firmness.” 

I quote  the  following  from  “The  Veterinarian”: — “We  will 
suppose  a case — a very  common  one,  an  every-day  one.  A man 
is  riding  a young  horse  upon  the  high  road  in  the  country,  and 
meets  a stage  coach,  or  railroad  train.  What  with  the  noise,  the 
bustle,  the  imposing  appearance  altogether,  and  the  slashing  of  the 
coachman’s  whip,  noise  of  the  train,  the  animal,  at  its  approach, 
erects  his  head  and  crest,  pricks  his  ears,  looks  affrighted,  and  no 
sooner  comes  alongside  of  the  machine,  than  he  suddenly  starts 
out  of  the  road.  His  rider,  annoyed  by  this,  instantly  commence, 
a round  of  castigation  with  whip,  spur,  and  curb,  in  which  he  per- 
sists until  the  horse,  as  well  as  himself,  has  lost  his  temper,  and 
then  one  whips,  spurs,  and  pulls,  and  the  other  jumps,  plunges, 
pets,  and  throws  up  his  head,  until  both,  pretty  well  exhausted  by 


DISEASES  OE  THE  HORSE. 


65 


the  conflict,  grow  tranquil  again,  and  proceed  on  their  journey, 
though  not  for  some  time  afterwards  in  their  former  mutual  con- 
fidence and  satisfaction.  Should  they  in  their  road,  or  even  on  a 
distant  day,  meet  with  another  coach,  or  train,  what  is  the  conse- 
quence ? The  horse  is  not  only  more  alarmed  than  before,  but 
now  the  moment  he  has  started,  being  conscious  of  his  fault,  and 
expecting  chastisement,  he  jumps  about  in  fearful  agitation,  making 
plunges  to  strike  into  a gallop,  and  attempting  to  run  away ; so 
that  by  this  correction,  instead  of  rendering  his  horse  tranquil  dur 
ing  the  passage,  the  rider  adds  to  the  evil  of  shying,  that  of  subse- 
quently plunging,  and,  perhaps,  running  away.” 

The  horse  will  sometimes  prove  restive  and  obstinate  when 
moimted  by  a strange  rider.  If  the  party  be  unused  to  riding,  he 
had  better  give  up  the  attempt ; but  if  he  possess  a knowledge  of 
the  art  of  sitting  a horse,  he  may  speedily  let  the  animal  know  that 
he  is  his  master,  and  it  is  astonishing  what  an  amount  of  respect 
this  will  produce.  A few  masterly  touches  will  usually  sober  a 
horse  at  once. 


CHAPTER  XVHI. 

DISEASES  OF  THE  HORSE. 

The  horse  is  too  valuable,  too  costly  an  animal,  to  be  rendered, 
at  any  time,  the  subject  of  blind  quackery.  He  who  endeavors 
to  “ doctor”  his  own  horse  is  a fool.  Veterinary  surgeons  are 
now  happily  plenty  ; as  soon  as  your  horse  is  indisposed,  send  for 
one,  or  send  the  animal  to  him.  It  is  better  to  disburse  a moderate 
fee  than  to  sacrifice,  or  risk  sacrificing,  a valuable  horse.  In  order 
to  treat  the  diseases  of  the  horse,  you  should  understand  his  or- 
ganization, habits,  &c.  To  attain  to  this  would  require  years  ot 
close  application,  followed  by  years  of  diligent  practice.  Better 
avail  yourself  of  the  aid  of  those  who  have  acquired  this  necessary 
knowledge,  and  who  have  made  its  practical  application  their  pro- 
fession. 

There  are  still,  however,  cases  in  which  you  may  advantageously 
become  your  “ own  horse-doctor,”  and  I must  give  you  some  in- 
struction relative  to  these. 

Bleeding. — Every  man  who  keeps  horses  should  know  how  to 


66 


HORSES. 


bleed,  as  timely  bleeding  will,  in  many  instances,  avert  a dangerous 
fit  of  illness.  Colds  may  lead  to  serious  results,  and  amongst 
others  fever,  that  may  terminate  fatally.  Prompt  bleeding  will 
often  avert  this ; by  the  time  a veterinary  surgeon  could  arrive, 
the  disease  might  have  passed  to  another  stage,  in  which  bleeding 
would  not  only  be  too  late,  but  improper.  I shall  therefore  tell 
you  how  to  bleed. 

In  bleeding,  the  lancet  is  doubtless  preferable  to  the  fleam,  but 
only  in  the  hands  of  the  veterinary  practitioner.  The  place  for 
bleeding  is  usually  the  jugular  vein.  You  have  the  horse  blind- 
folded ; smooth  the  coat  along  the  course  of  the  vein ; have  the 
head  of  the  animal  turned  from  you  by  an  assistant ; with  the 
fingers  of  the  left  hand,  which  holds  the  fleam,  press  upon  the  vein 
just  sufficiently  to  bring  it  well  into  view.  The  best  point  is  about 
two  inches  below  the  junction  of  the  two  branches  of  the  jugular 
near  the  angle  of  the  jaw  ; place  the  fleam  exactly  on  the  course 
of  the  vein,  and  strike  smartly,  but  not  too  violently,  on  the  back  of 
the  fleam.  Bleed  always  from  a large  orifice,  and  for  this  purpose 
a large-bladed  fleam  is  preferable ; for  a small  quantity  of  blood 
rapidly  abstracted  will  produce  more  valuable  effect  than  a large 
quantity  gradually  drawn.  When  enough  of  blood  has  been 
taken,  remove  the  pressure,  bring  the  lips  of  the  wound  together, 
pass  a pin  through  them,  and  roll  some  tow  or  silk  thread  round 
it,  over  the  extremities  of  the  pin.  Secure  the  horse  for  a couple 
of  hours,  so  that  he  cannot  rub  this  off  against  the  manger.  There 
is  a spring-lancet,  that  is  to  be  greatly  preferred  to  the  fleam.  See 
that  the  blade  be  clean.  Blood  may  be,  for  local  purposes,  ab- 
stracted from  any  superficial  vein  in  the  same  manner. 

Drenching. — You  should  also  know  how  to  administer 
drenches.  Never  use  a bottle  for  this  purpose,  as  the  horse  might 
bite  away  the  neck,  and  either  swallow  a portion  of  the  glass,  or 
otherwise  injure  himself.  Have  a cow’s  horn  for  this  purpose,  the 
larger  end  cut  in  a slanting  direction  ; pass  a halter  into  the  mouth, 
and  let  an  assistant  keep  the  head  elevated,  by  means  of  a stable- 
fork,  as  high  as  he  is  able ; you  then  draw  forth  the  tongue  with 
your  left  hand,  and,  with  the  right,  introduce  the  small  end  of  the 
horn  into  the  mouth,  gently  of  course,  over  the  tongue  ; a turn  of 
the  wrist  will  then  empty  the  contents  into  the  mouth  ; a simul- 
taneous movement  withdraws  the  horn  and  lets  go  the  tongue. 
Keep  the  head  up  till  all  is  swallowed  ; and  if  the  horse  retain  some 
of  the  drench  obstinately  in  the  mouth,  a step  on  the  no<^e  will 


DISEASES  OF  THE  IIORSE. 


67 


generally  compel  him  to  swallow  it.  Do  not  try  to  give  too  much 
at  once  ; be  sure  to  introduce  the  horn  far  enough,  and  to  turn  and 
withdraw  it  quickly,  but  without  hurting  the  gums  or  lips  of  the 
horse. 

Balls  are  given  in  a somewhat  similar  manner ; but  the  head 
does  not  require  to  be  held  so  high. 

Accidents. — There  are  also  some  accidents  that  the  proprietor 
of  a horse  may  with  safety  look  after  himself.  For  instance, 
broken  knees.  When  a horse  falls  and  lacerates  his  knees,  your 
first  object  should  be,  by  careful  washing,  to  remove  all  foreign 
substances  from  the  wound.  In  the  next  place,  ascertain  whether 
the  joint  cavity  has  been  penetrated.  Do  not  use  a probe  for  this 
purpose  ; but  apply  a poultice  of  linseed-meal,  and  when,  in  about 
eight  or  ten  hours  afterwards,  you  take  it  off,  you  will  see  a yel- 
lowish, glairy  fluid,  effused  upon  it,  if  the  joint  have  been  pene- 
trated. Should  this  have  been  the  case,  send  at  once  for  the  vete- 
rinary surgeon.  When  the  joint  has  not  been  penetrated,  get  the 
lips  of  the  wound  together,  and  keep  them  so  by  a compress  and 
bandages,  which  need  not  be  renewed  till  the  third  day.  The 
earlier  the  wound  is  closed  the  less  mark  will  be  left  on  the  part, 

Lameness. — It  is  sometimes  difficult  to  detect  the  cause  of 
lameness,  especially  of  the  anterior  extremities ; I would,  however, 
say,  that  it  is  a safe  criterion  to  watch  how  the  horse  moves.  If 
be  lift  his  feet,  the  shoulder  is  not  the  injured  part ; but  if  the 
shoulder  be  affected,  the  pain  that  any  raising  of  the  foot  will 
occasion  will  cause  him  to  drag  the  toe  along  the  ground,  instead 
of  attempting  to  raise  the  foot.  In  shoulder-lameness  you  can  do 
nothing  but  get  the  surgeon  as  soon  as  possible  ; in  the  other  case, 
examine  the  foot,  as  bad  shoeing  may  be  the  exciting  cause. 

Stabs  or  Cuts. — Let  your  first  care  be  to  remove  the  cause,  if 
any  such  remain  in  the  wound ; send  at  the  same  time  for  the 
nearest  veterinary  surgeon.  If  there  be  much  effusion  of  blood, 
strive  to  check  it  as  much  as  possible,  pending  that  gentleman’s 
arrival : this  may  be  best  done  by  producing  pressure  on  the 
bleeding  vessels,  and  affusion  of  cold  water.  In  some  cases  a 
solution  of  alum,  or  any  other  harmless  astringent,  may  be  useful. 
Pricks  in  the  sole  are  a very  frequent  cause  of  “ Quittor,”  and 
should,  therefore,  be  timely  looked  to  ; but  it  is  well  to  caution  you 
to  observe  the  manner  in  which  the  farrier  removes  the  shoe  for 
the  purpose  of  examination.  Do  not  suffer  him  to  take  it  off  vio- 
lently ; each  nail  should  be  separately  extracted,  and  the  shoe  then 


68 


HORSES. 


removed,  otherwise  the  affair  will  probably  be  made  worse.  When 
the  shoe  is  thus  gently  removed,  the  appearance  of  matter  or 
moisture  on  some  particular  spot  will  usually  indicate  the  seat  of 
pain. 

As  we  are  speaking  of  farriers,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  add,  that 
many  cases  of  lameness  arc  induced  by  bad  shoeing..  Want  of 
space  renders  it  impossible  for  me  to  enter  into  a treatise  on  the 
foot  of  the  horse ; but  it  may  be  well  to  state,  that  the  reader  can 
purchase  separately  many  excellent  works  on  that  most  important 
subject.  My  own  advice  is,  to  send  your  horse  always  to  a forge 
that  is  under  the  superintendence  of  a veterinary  surgeon. 

Colic  attacks  a horse  in  many  instances  very  suddenly,  and 
requires  immediate  relief.  Send  for  the  veterinary  surgeon,  but, 
pending  his  arrival,  give,  as  a drench,  about  two  ounces  of  oil  of 
turpentine  with  six  drachms  of  laudanum,  in  a pint  of  castor  or 
linseed  oil,  warm.  After  the  spasms  have  disappeared,  rub  the 
horse  dry,  the  belly  and  flanks  especially ; but  I do  not,  as  some 
do,  recommend  the  horse  to  be  trotted  about — better  let  him  rest. 
Give  no  spirits,  pepper,  or  other  stimulants. 

Fits. — You  had  better  in  this  case,  send  for  the  surgeon  at  once, 
if  your  horse  be  valuable ; if  otherwise,  get  rid  of  him. 

Glanders. — In  purchasing  a horse,  be  very  careful  to  ascertain 
that  he  is  unaffected  with  this  truly  terrible  disease,  for  which  there 
is  no  cure,  and  which  has,  in  so  many  frightful  instances,  proved 
its  communicability  to  man  and  other  animals.  Notwithstanding 
the  awful  nature  of  this  disease,  however — not  a whit  less  dreadful 
than  Hydrophobia — dealers  at  fairs  and  other  places  will  frequent- 
ly endeavor  to  pass  off  a glandered  horse  upon  an  unwary  cus- 
tomer. The  usual  trick  is,  stimulating  the  nostrils  till  the  horse 
has  snorted  away  all  the  matter  lying  in  them,  and  then,  by  injec- 
tions of  an  astringent  nature,  producing  a temporary  suppression 
of  the  discharge.  Others  cram  a pledget  of  tow  up  the  nostrils. 
These  tricks  may  be  detected  by  the  animal’s  uneasiness,  tossing  of 
his  head,  efforts  to  sneeze,  the  red  and  vascular  appearance  of  the 
interior  of  the  nostril,  but  especially  by  the  fetid  breath. 

Farcy  and  glanders  are,  to  a considerable  extent,  connected,  as 
each  when  neglected,  or  proving  obstinate,  is  apt  to  run  into  the 
other.  Like  glanders,  farcy  is  highly  .contagious  ; but  is  not,  like 
that  disease,  wholly  impregnable  to  the  attacks  of  science.  When 
the  disease  first  appears — and  its  appearance  is  familiar  to  all  about 
horses — give  an  aperient  drench.  If  it  be  the  t .itton-farcy,  touch 


DISEASES  OF  THE  HORSE. 


69 


the  buttons  with  the  extremity  of  a hot  iron ; if  yc.t  have  no 
“budding-iron”  by  you,  the  top  of  an  “Italian  iron,”  such  as 
laundresses  use,  may  be  made  to  answer.  Examine  the  sores  daily, 
and  as  soon  as  they  begin  to  slough,  touch  with  a solution  of  a 
drachm  of  corrosive  sublimate,  in  an  ounce  of  spirit  of  wine,  to 
which  is  added  two  drachms  of  creosote.  Give  internally  a ball 
daily,  composed  of  corrosive  sublimate,  twelve  grains ; two  drachms 
of  powdered  gentian,  one  drachm  of  ginger,  and  one  ounce  of 
powdered  brimstone.  As  soon  as  the  mouth  begins  to  look  affect- 
ed by  the  mercury,  or  the  animal  is  violently  purged,  omit  the 
corrosive  sublimate,  but  continue  the  remainder  of  the  ball.  Keep 
the  animal  in  an  airy  situation,  but  one  not  exposed  to  draughts 
or  damp ; and  feed  on  green  meat,  such  as  parsnips  and  carrots 
especially,  which  roots  possess  sweetening  qualities  of  a high  order. 

Lampas,  or  swelling  of  the  “ bars,”  or  vacant  spaces  between 
the  tusks  and  grinders — an  affection  very  common  to  young  horses 
when  teething — will  generally  yield  to  mild  alteratives,  and  cooling 
drinks ; but  if  it  do  not,  a few  slight  incisions  with  a lancet  or  pen- 
knife will  produce  relief,  taking  care  to  confine  your  scarification  to 
the  outside  edge,  so  as  to  avoid  the  palatine  artery  and  vein.  Do 
not  permit  the  bars  to  be  fired. 

Strangles,  or  Distemper,  common  to  young  horses,  and  pre- 
senting symptoms  so  like  those  of  glanders,  as  to  be  sometimes 
confounded  with  that  disease.  Strangles  may,  however,  be  dis- 
tinguished from  glanders,  by  the  formation  in  the  former  of  a con- 
tinuous tumor  in  the  hollow  under  the  lower  jaw.  The  treatment 
consists  in  bringing  this  swelling  to  a head,  by  means  of  a blister ; 
as  soon  as  it  is  soft  on  the  top,  it  should  be  opened,  and  that  by 
free  incisions.  The  sore  may  then  be  dressed  for  a few  days  with 
common  digestive  ointment.  Cooling  drinks,  as  cream  of  tartar 
and  nitre,  may  be  given  with  advantage ; if  there  be  appearance 
of  fever,  or  affection  of  the  chest,  send  for  the  surgeon,  as  the 
treatment  is  now  beyond  your  skill.  This,  however,  is  rarely  the 
case. 

Poll  evil,  a swelling  of  the  poll,  caused  by  the  horse  striking 
it  against  the  lower  edge  of  the  manger,  when  raising  it  suddenly 
after  stooping,  or  by  pulling  upon  his  halter.  In  most  cases,  all 
attempts  to  prevent  suppuration  are  useless,  and  I think  it  best  to 
endeavor  at  once  to  hasten  it.  Then  open  the  tumor  by  means  of 
a seton,  which  should  be  passed  in  at  the  top,  penetrate  through 


70 


HORSES. 


the  bottom,  and  pass  out  at  the  side  of  the  neck,  ;ust  below  the 
abscess.  Foment  with  warm  water,  and  keep  the  parts  clean. 

Roaring,  most  generally  the  consequence  of  malformation  of 
the  larynx,  but  sometimes  occurring  by  a sequel  to  strangles,  and 
sometimes  arising  from  palsy  of  the  muscles  connected  with  the 
larynx.  The  use  of  a strap  for  the  cure  of  crib-biting  is  also  an 
occasional  cause.  I know  of  no  cure,  and  am  disposed  to  think 
that,  in  all  cases,  roaring  is  beyond  the  reach  of  treatment.  I 
would  also  advise  you  not  to  breed  from  a “ roarer,”  as  this  defect 
is,  in  many  cases,  transmitted  to  the  progeny. 

Saddle-galls  might  have  been  prevented  by  using  properly- 
adjusted  and  well-stuffed  harness  or  collars.  Rest  the  horse, 
bathe  twice  daily  with  warm  water,  and  after  each  bathing  dress 
with  spermaceti  ointment. 

Inflammation. — When  you  find  a horse  dull,  listless,  off  his 
feed,  coat  staring,  chest  and  nose  hot,  extremities  cold,  some  attack, 
of  an  inflammatory  nature  is  at  hand.  Bleed  from  a large  orifice, 
until  you  find  the  pulse  sensibly  diminish ; administer  a purgative, 
but,  meanwhile,  the  veterinary  surgeon  should  have  been  sent  for 
with  all  speed. 

Spavin. — An  enlargement  of  the  little  sacs  of  mucus  placed 
between  the  tendons  to  prevent  friction.  The  most  common  place 
for  this  to  occur  is  at  the  inside  of  the  hock,  at  the  bend.  This  is 
called  bog-spavin.  When  this  becomes  so  much  enlarged  as  to 
produce  compression  of  the  vein  passing  over  it,  between  it  and  the 
integuments,  the  vein  shares  in  the  distension,  and  it  becomes 
blood-spavin.  In  general,  a spavined  horse  is  lame,  but  not  inva- 
riably so.  Blistering,  or  perhaps  firing,  is  the  only  cure  on  which 
I place  any  reliance. 

“ Distemper,”  or  more  correctly,  epidemic  catarrh,  generally 
commences  in  shivering  ; then  heat  of  mouth  and  nostrils,  cough, 
red  and  heavy  eye,  redness  of  the  membrane  of  the  nose.  From 
the  commencement,  there  is  generally,  but  not  invariably,  a dis- 
charge from  the  nostrils,  which,  in  neglected  cases,  becomes  fetid 
and  ropy.  This  disease  requires  too  much  judgment,  and  too 
much  knowledge  of  the  very  varied  treatment  called  for  in  each 
different  stage,  for  me  to  be  disposed  to  give  you  any  advice, 
further  than  that,  if  you  have  detected  it  at  its  very  commence- 
ment, bleed  copiously,  and  give  a strong  purgative,  the  veterinary 
surgeon  being  also  sent  for.  Do  not  suffer  yourself  to  be  made  a 
victim  of  quacks.  There  is  no  specific  for  this  disease,  and,  under 


DISEASES  OF  THE  HORSE. 


71 


improper  treatment,  it  is  more  frequently  fatal  than  otherwise. 
The  early  attendance  of  a veterinary  surgeon  in  this  disease  is  the 
more  desirable,  as  its  early  symptoms  are  extremely  like  those  of 

Malignant  Epidemic,  which  latter  disease  rapidly  runs  into 
gangrene,  and  terminates  in  death ; and  the  former  disease  fre- 
quently passes  into  the  latter,  when  not  properly  combated  at  first. 

Broken  Wind,  or  Heaves. — Incurable;  it  may  be  alleviated  by 
condensing  the  food — reducing  as  much  as  possible  the  quantity 
necessary  to  be  consumed,  by  giying  the  necessary  nutriment  in  as 
small  a compass  as  you  can — as,  for  instance,  more  oats  and  less 
hay.  Keep  the  bowels  moderately  open,  and  never  work  upon  a 
full  stomach.  Feeding  upon  carrots  will  also  be  found  beneficial. 

Worms. — The  symptoms  show  themselves  in  the  appearance  of 
the  vermin  in  the  excrements,  or  creeping  out  of  the  anus.  Give 
two  drachms  of  tartar  emetic,  with  twenty  grains  of  powdered 
ginger,  every  morning,  fasting.  When  there  appears  much  irrita- 
tion about  the  anus,  give  a strong  dose  of  aloes,  and  inject  linseed 
oil. 

Jaundice,  known  by  the  yellowness  of  the  eyes,  mouth,  and  of 
all  naked  portions  of  the  skin,  with  high-colored  urine,  dullness, 
and  loss  of  appetite.  Bleed  ; give  twice  daily,  until  the  bowels 
have  been  freely  opened,  two  drachms  of  aloes,  with  one  drachm 
of  calomel ; warm  white-water,  or  thin  gruel.  Keep  the  stable 
cool ; feed  on  green  meats. 

Difficulty  of  staling — Give  plenty  of  warm  drink ; give 
linseed  boiled  in  plenty  of  water  ; turpentine  made  into  a ball  with 
linseed  meal ; half  an  ounce  of  turpentine  and  half  a drachm  of 
ginger,  with  as  much  of  the  meal  as  is  required  to  form  the  ball. 

In  profuse  staling,  (the  opposite  of  the  preceding,)  the 
treatment  should  be  bleeding,  purging ; every  kind  of  counter  irri- 
tation ; astringent  medicines ; feed  on  carrots. 

Wind  galls. — An  enlargement  about  the  fetlock,  caused  by  the 
enlargement  of  the  mucus  sacs,  spoken  of  already  in  reference  to 
spavin.  Treatment  the  same. 

Ringbone. — A deposit  of  bony  matter  on  the  cartilages  and 
bones  of  the  pastern  and  foot.  The  only  cure  is  firing,  and  even 
it  is  only  occasionally  successful. 

Thorough-pin,  analogous  to  windgalls  and  spavin,  being  a 
similar  enlargement  above  the  bock,  between  the  extensor  muscle 
of  the  hock  and  the  flexor  tendons  of  the  foot.  Mode  of  treat 
ment  same  as  for  windgalls. 


72 


HORSES 


Curb  is  the  consequence  of  a strain  of  the  tendon  or  its  sheath, 
or  the  circular  ligament  which  holds  it  in  its  place.  It  appears 
under  the  form  of  an  enlargement  at  the  back  of  the  hock,  two  or 
three  inches  below  its  point.  Bleed  from  the  subcutaneous  vein 
nearest  the  seat  of  injury ; use  emollient  fomentations.  Firing  is 
sometimes,  but  not  invariably,  advisable.  A veterinary  surgeon 
must  judge  of  this. 

Stringhalt — Cause  and  cure  alike  unknown. 

♦ Grease  commences  in  inflammation  of  the  skin  of  the  heels, 
proceeding  to  excoriation,  cracking,  ulceration,  and  fungus.  Cleanse 
well  with  soft-soap  and  water  ; use  a solution  of  alum,  or  sulphate 
of  copper,  as  a lotion.  If  there  be  much  foulness,  a carrot-poultice 
is  valuable.  Keep  the  bowels  well  open. 

Corns — Resulting  from  bad  shoeing.  Cure  obvious. 

Overreach — The  bruise  given  by  an  awkward  blow  of  the  toe 
of  one  foot  against  the  heel  of  another.  Cleanse,  and  fasten  a 
pledget  of  tow,  dipped  in  friar’s-balsam,  upon  the  wound.  When 
neglected,  overreach  will  run  into  Quittor,  which  will  require  vete- 
rinary care. 

Feeling  that  the  above  brief  hints  are  all  that  would  be  likely 
to  aid  the  amateur  in  the  treatment  of  his  horse,  I conclude  with 
an  earnest  reiteration  of  my  advice — Whenever  a horse  worth 
saving  displays  symptoms  of  illness,  send,  without  any  loss  of  time, 
for — not  a village  farrier,  or  “cattle  doctor” — but  a regularly 
educated  and  diploma’d  Veterinary  Surgeon. 


THE  HOG; 

HIS  ORIGIN  AND  VARIETIES 


IblAN agement  with  a view  to  profit, 


AND 

TREATMENT  UNDER  DISEASE: 


ALSO, 


PLAIN  DIRECTIONS  RELATIVE  TO  THE  MOST  APPROVED  MODES  OF 
CURING  AND  PRESERVING  HIS  FLESH. 


BY 

H.  D.  RICHARDSON, 

Author  of  “The  Horse,”  “Domestic  Fowl,”  “The  Pests  of  the  Farm,* 
“The  Hive  and  the  Honey-Bee,”  etc. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  ON  WOOD. 


NEW  YORK: 

C.  M . SAXTON  AND  COMPANY, 
AGRICULTURAL  BOOK  PUBLISHERS, 

9 No.  140  Fulton  Street 

1856. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1852,  by 
C.  M.  SAXTON, 

in  t te  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  ef  the  United  States,  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


PUBLISHER’S  ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  Publisher,  having  found  the  want  of  small,  cheap  Books,  of 
acknowledged  merit,  on  the  great  topics  of  farming  economy,  and 
meeting  for  those  of  such  a class  a constant  demand,  offers,  in  this 
one,  a work  calculated  to  fill  the  void. 

The  works  of  Richardson  on  the  Hog,  the  Horse,  the  Bee,  the 
Domestic  Fowl,  and  the  Pests  of  the  Farm,  are  popular  in  England 
and  in  America,  and,  in  evidence  of  their  worth,  meet  with  continued 
sale  both  there  and  here.  Hitherto  they  have  not  been  offered  to  the 
American  public  in  an  American  dress ; and  the  Publisher  presents 
in  this  Reprint,  one  of  the  series,  adapted  to  American  wants,  and 
trusts  that  a discerning  Public  will  both  buy  and  read  these  little 
Treatises,  so  admirably  adapted  to  all  classes,  and  fitted  by  their 
size  for  the  pocket,  and  thus  readable  at  the  fireside,  on  the  road, 
and  in  short  everywhere. 

C.  M.  SAXTON, 

Agricultural  Boole  Publisher . 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 


Utility  or  the  Hog 


"age 


The  Wild  Original 


CHAPTER  II. 


9 


Varieties  of  Domestic  Hog 

Chinese  and  Siamese 

Berkshire 

Irish 

Hog  of  Ancient  Ireland 

Suffolk 

Cheshire 

Hampshire 

Yorkshire 

Shropshire 

Wiltshire 

Herefordshire 


CHAPTER  III. 


Page 
. 17 
. 20 
. 21 
. ib. 

. 22 
. ib. 

. 23 
. ib. 

. ib. 

. ib. 

. 24 


Gloucestershire 

Northamptonshire 

Norfolk 

Leicestershire 

Lincolnshire 

Essex 

Improved  Essex  . . , 
Essex  Half  Blacks 

Sussex 

Old  English 


16 

24 

ib. 

ib 

ib. 

25 
ib. 
ib. 
ib. 
ib. 

26 


Westphalian . . 
Neapolitan  ... 
French  Swine 
Poitou 


Points  of  a Good  Hog 


CHAPTER  IV. 
Continental  Varieties. 


26 

27 
ib. 

28 


Pay  d’Auge 
Perigorde  . . 
Champagne 
Boulogne  .. 


CHAPTER  V. 


2S 

ib. 

ib. 

ib. 


28 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Houses  and  Piogeries 30 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Breeding,  Rearing  and  Feeding 33 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Tran  requisite  for  Feeding  Fat,  Quantity  of  Food,  and  Proportionate  In- 
crease of  Weight  in  a given  Time 43 


6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IX.  Page 

Dia  ran  r#  mr  Swivr AA 

Page 

General  Remarks 44 

Fever 45 

Leprosy  47 

Murrain ........  ib. 

Crackings 51 

Swelling  of  the  Spleen,  or  "Ratille,”.  ib 

Surfeit 52 

Lethargy , jh 

Measlfts 48 

Heavings ss 

Jaundice ib. 

Foul  Skin ib. 

Mango . . ..  . . ib. 

Diarrhoea,  or  Looseness  04 

Quinsy ib. 

Tumors ih. 

Staggers 51 

Catarrh,  or  Cold 05 

CHAPTER  X. 


Slaughtering  and  Curing 

Unnecessary  Cruelty  in  Killing  de- 
precated, and  a Humane  Method 
pointed  out ; also  various  Modes  of 
Killing,  as  now  and  formerly  prac- 


tised   55 

Dressing  and  cutting  up 57 

Different  Modes  of  Curing 58 

Mild  Cure 59 

Smoking . ib. 

Best  Sawdust  for 60 


94 

Westphalia  Hams 60 

Limerick ib. 

Hampshire ib. 

Wiltshire 61 

Skinning in. 

Patent  Curing  Machine ib. 

On  Extracting  or  Discharging  Salt 
from  Cured  Meat 63 


Practical  Directions  for  Curing  on  a 

small  or  large  scale 


ib 


HOGS; 

THEIR  ORIGIN  AND  VARIETIES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

UTILITY  OF  THE  HOG, 

The  Hog  is  an  animal  whose  properties  are  calculated  # in  a 
very  remarkable  degree,  at  once  to  awaken  the  aversions  anu  com- 
mand the  consideration  of  mankind  : the  former  excited  by  the 
habits  and  manners  displayed  by  the  animal  during  life  ; the  lat- 
ter the  result  of  reflection  upon  the  sources  of  profit  derivable  from 
his  carcass  after  death.  The  hog  is  at  once  the  foulest  and  the 
most  useful  of  quadrupeds.  In  aspect  and  general  form  he  is  un- 
inviting ; his  life  is  seemingly  devoted  to  the  attainment  of  sen- 
sual or  disgusting  objects  which  constitute  his  enjoyments : and 
yet,  however  filthy  in  his  habits,  unsocial,  often  ferocious,  he  may 
be,  he  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  of  animals ; and  is  esteemed 
from  the  palace  to  the  meanest  cabin. 

It  is  probable,  that  the  repulsive  habits  of  the  hog,  in  a domesti- 
cated state,  are  attributable  to  his  domesticators — the  human  race. 
The  wild  boar,  the  original  of  the  domestic  hog,  does  not  present 
the  same  disgusting  habits  or  gross  sensuality  as  does  his  reclaim- 
ed descendant.  It  may  be  stated,  that  the  domestic  hog  is  blood- 
thirsty and  treacherous.  The  proofs  of  such  a disposition  rest 
upon  a few  occurrences ; we  can  easily  bring  forward  instances  of 
an  opposite  character.  We  have  many  proofs  of  the  sagacity  that 
the  hog  is  possessed  of,  and  to  elicit  which,  education  and  judi- 
cious management  are  required  ! Have  we  not  had  “ learned 
pigs,”  capable  of  .".electing  cards  from  the  pack,  and  of  joining 
letters  together  to  form  words ; and  of  performing  many  olhei 


6 


HOGS. 


tricks  that,  were  the  sagacity  of  the  hog  of  inferior  grade,  it  never 
could  have  been  taught  to  perform  ? There  are  two  instances  of 
this  animal  having  been  trained  to  the  sports  of  the  field  : one  oc- 
curred in  the  establishment  of  that  celebrated  sportsman,  Colonel 
Thornton  ; and  a sow  was  broken  in  to  set  game  by  Mr.  Toomer, 
gamekeeper  of  Sir  H.  P.  S.  Mildmay.  The  latter  animal  turned 
out  a most  stanch  pointer,  and  would  quarter  her  ground,  point, 
and  even  back  the  dogs , as  correctly  and  as  brilliantly  as  any  first- 
rate  setter  of  the  canine  race.  Having  been  detected  in  the  act  of 
devouring  a lamb,  she  was  sold,  and  met  the  usual  fate  of  her 
brethren — the  knife  of  the  butcher. 

Nor  are  instances  rare  of  the  hog  having  conceived  affection  for 
other  animals  of  a different  race.  A domestic  pig  attached  itself 
to  a bulldog,  whom  he  would  follow  everywhere,  and  with  whom 
he  would  gambol  and  play  in  the  most  harmonious  manner : if 
the  dog  went  with  his  master  on  a ramble,  the  pig  would  form,  if 
permitted,  one  of  the  party ; and  when  a stick  was  thrown  into 
the  water,  for  the  dog  to  fetch,  the  pig  would  rival  his  canine  as- 
sociate, boldly  take  to  the  water,  and  delight  in  swimming ; if  it 
succeeded  in  reaching  the  stick  sooner  than  the  dog,  it  would  take 
it  in  its  mouth,  and  fetch  it  safely  to  land. 

Such  pigs  as  I have  been  for  any  length  of  time  in  the  habit  of 
visiting,  have  not  only  recognized  me,  but  testified  joy  on  my  ap- 
proach, and  satisfaction  at  my  caresses ; nor  could  this  have  origi- 
nated in  motives  of  a selfish  or  sensual  nature,  as  I was  not  their 
feeder. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  pig  naturally  loves  foul  food  and  filthy 
bedding.  That  the  wild  boar  does  not  is  evident  from  his  cleanly 
habits-,  and  the  dry  and  clean  lair  which  he  forms  in  his  native  fo- 
rest ; and  that  the  domestic  hog  does  not  will  be  admitted  by  any 
person  who  has  witnessed  the  delight  that  animal  manifests  on 
being  furnished  with  fresh  straw  after  his  sty  has  been  cleansed. 
“A  hog  is  the  cleanest  of  all  creatures,  and  will  never  dung  or 
stale  in  his  stye,  if  he  can  get  forth.”  “ The  hog,  though  he 
tumble  in  the  dirt  in  the  summer,  is  not  a filthy  animal.  He  doeth 
it,  partlie  to  cool  himselfe,  partlie  to  kill  his  lice ; for  when  the 
dirt  is  drie  he  rubbeth  it  off,  and  therebie  destroy eth  the  lice.” 
And  do  not  other  members  of  the  order,  including  the  half-reason ■ 
ing  elephant,  practise  the  same  ; a resource  no  more  than  parallel 
with  the  custom  of  some  savage  nations,  anointing  their  skins  with 
grease  fbr  the  same  purpose.  It  is  the  fact  that  the  hog  will  thrive 


THE  WILD  ORIGINAL. 


11 


uisunct  species  of  true  pig  ; but  erroneously.  It  is  not  impossible 
that  we  might  reclaim  the  Babyroussa  and  the  Dicoteles ; and  the 
acquisition  would  be  sufficiently  valuable  to  warrant  the  attempt 


WILD  BOAR. 

The  Wild  Boar  is  very  common  in  all  the  reedy  marshes  of 
Tartary  and  Siberia,  and  in  the  mountainous  forests  in  the  vicinity 
of  Lake  Baikal,  as  far  as  Lat.  50°,  but  is  said  not  to  occur  in  the 
northern  extremity  of  Siberia. 

The  hog  was  not  indigenous  to  the  American  Continent,  but 
introduced  into  it  by  the  Spaniards ; either  the  original  stock 
was  a good  one,  or  the  breed  has  thriven  peculiarly  in  that 
country,  the  present  South  American  breed  being  remarkable  for 
arriving  early  at  maturity,  and  fattening  easily.  A sow,  and  a 
litter  with  her,  were  brought  from  Monte  Video.  One  of  these 
fattened,  when  very  young,  to  336  pounds  ; and  although  rim.  it 
had,  in  the  opinion  of  the  butcher,  more  flesh  in  proportion  than 
he  had  ever  before  witnessed. 

The  food  of  the  wild  hog  consists  chiefly  of  roots  and  vegeta- 
bles. Worms,  insects,  as  well  as  acorns,  beechmast,  chestnuts,  are 


12 


HOGS. 


also  greedily  sought  after  and  devoured ; and  acting  upon  a 
knowledge  of  the  animal’s  feral  habits,  some  proprietors  turn 
out  their  swine  to  feed  in  the  forests,  searching  for  and  driving 
them  home  when  in  a fitting  condition.  The  pork  of  hogs,  thus 
suffered,  for  a time,  towards  the  close  of  their  life,  to  cater  for 
themselves,  is  found  to  be  peculiarly  sweet  and  delicate.  A simi- 
lar system  is  still  resorted  to  in  many  parts  of  America,  and  with 
equal  success ; for  we  are  not  to  judge  of  the  true  flavor  of 
American  pork  from  such  as  is  at  present  imported  into  this 
country,  its  coarse  taste  and  extreme  hardness  of  texture  being  the 
result  of  the  curing  process  adopted,  and  not  of  any  improper 
method  of  feeding. 

The  Hog  is,  unless  hard  pressed,  by  no  means  so  foul  a feeder 
as  many  suppose.  This  will  be  the  better  understood  from  tho 
following  table,  representing  the  comparative  graminivorous  pro- 
pensities of  the  ox,  horse,  sheep,  goat,  and  hog. 


The  ox  eats  276  plants  and  rejects 

218 

The  horse 

262 

u 

it 

212 

The  sheep 

387 

u 

u 

141 

The  goat 

449 

u 

u 

129 

The  hog 

72 

it 

It 

171 

The  boar  is,  in  his  wild  state,  an  object  of  terror,  but  when  re 
duced  to  captivity,  becomes  comparatively  gentle  and  manage- 
able. A wild  boar  kept  some  years  ago  in  the  Parisian  me- 
nagerie, performed  several  tricks,  went  through  different  exer- 
cises, and  assumed  various  attitudes  ; — the  stomach  was  however 
the  “ master  of  arts”  on  this  occasion,  for  bread  was  the  reward 
of  obedience.  In  confinement,  the  wild  boar  soon  becomes  as 
inured  to  filth  as  the  nastiest  amongst  his  domesticated  brethren. 

The  color  of  the  wild  boar  is  a brownish  black,  inclining  to 
grey  ; he  is  usually  not  so  large  as  our  domestic  breeds  of  hog, 
not  exceeding  from  twenty-five  to  thirty  inches  in  height  at  the 
shoulder ; instances,  however,  of  its  attaining  a larger  size  are 
recorded.  He  lives  about  thirty  years  ; having  attained  maturity 
at  about  the  fourth  season.  In  habits,  he  is  solitary,  and  lives 
apart  from  his  kind  in  the  forests.  During  the  rutting  season, 
in  the  months  of  December  and  January,  he  goes  forth  from  re- 
tirement, and  rejoining  the  herd,  selects  a mate.  This  selection  is 
of  course  not  made  without  many  an  obstinate  conflict  with  fierce 
and  formidable  rivals,  but  the  conqueror  and  his  bride  betake 
themselves  to  some  unfrequented  spot,  and  pair  for  thirty  days. 


THE  WILD  ORIGINAL. 


9 


better,  and  fatten  more  quickly,  if  kept  with  proper  attention  to 
cleanliness.  We  have  not  improved  the  character,  or  ameliorated 
the  condition  of  this  animal  by  domesticating  him, — many  of  those 
habits  that  excite  our  disgust,  are  attributable  to  our  misconception 
of  his  natural  propensities,  and  mismanagement  of  him  in  a state 
of  captivity.  The  hog,  as  we  generally  find  hint,  is,  in  life,  a very 
disgusting  brute ; and  still,  all  these  disagreeable  qualities  are 
amply  counterbalanced  by  his  extraordinary  utility  aftei*  death. 

The  flesh  of  the  hog  is  remarkable  for  the  property  of  taking 
salt  more  kindly  than  any  other  description  of  meat ; it  conse- 
quently retains  its  sweetness  for  a much  longer  period,  and  is,  on 
that  account,  particularly  calculated  for  ships’  stores.  It  can  be 
used  for  a greater  length  of  time  without  change,  without  produc- 
ing weariness  of  its  use,  or  any  of  those  unpleasant  effects  com- 
monly attendant  on  the  continued  use  of  salt  provisions,  as  scurvy , 
&c.,  than  any  other  description  of  salted  meat ; besides,  it  is  den- 
ser in  texture,  and  therefore  goes  farther. 

The  lard  of  the  hog  is  in  high  esteem  with  the  apothecary,  for 
forming  plasters,  ointments,  and  other  similar  preparations — with 
the  hairdresser,  for  forming  pomatum,  bear’s  grease , cold  cream , and 
other  accessories  of  the  toilet.  Its  bristles  are  in  demand  with 
brushmakers  and  shoemakers  ; of  the  skin  is  made  pocket-books, 
saddles,  boot-tops;  and  even  the  ears  are  frequently  made  into 
The  hog  furnishes  another  article,  when  properly  fed  and 
managed  with  a view  to  its  production,  namely,  brawn.  Among 
the  properties  of  the  hog,  we  must  not  omit  sausages  and  black 
puddings,  the  former  so  greatly  relished  as  adjuncts  to  dishes  of  a 
less  savory  character  ; nor,  in  conclusion,  is  the  manure  produced 
from  the  sty  to  be  overlooked,  nor  its  fertilizing  properties  forgotten. 

I thus  offer  an  apology  for  the  hog’s  disagreeable  peculiarities  : 
he  really  is  the  most  useful  of  quadrupeds. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  WILD  ORIGINAL. 

The  Hog  belongs  to  the  Class  Mammalia,  or  animals  possess 
mg  teats  or  mamince,  for  the  nourishment  of  their  young — to  the 
sixth  order,  Pachydermata,  or  thick-skinned  animals— to  the  ge- 
1* 


10 


HOGS. 


nus,  third  of  the  order,  Sits,  or  swine — and  to  the  upecies,  Sus 
Scropha , or  Hog. 

The  dentition  of  the  hog  is  as  follows  : — 

Incisors  £ or  £ Canines  j-'|  Molars 

The  incisors  oY  the  lower  jaw  are  directed  obliquely  forwards  ; 
those  of  the  upper  are  of  a conical  form.  The  canine  teeth,  or 
tusks,  continue  to  grow,  and  increase  in  size  during  the  whole  of 
the  animal’s  lifetime,  projecting  from  the  mouth,  often  to  a very 
considerable  length,  and  frequently  curving  outwards  and  back- 
wards towards  the  extremities.  The  molars,  or  cheek  teeth,  are 
simple  and  tuberculated.  There  are  four  toes  on  all  the  feet,  of 
which  the  two  middle  ones  only  rest  upon  the  ground  ; but  there 
exists  a peculiar  breed  of  swine,  in  other  particulars  true  hogs,  but 
possessing  a solid  hoof,  formed  of  a single  toe.  These  hogs  arc 
found  in  Sweden,  especially  about  Upsall. 

The  nose  of  the  hog  is  elongated,  cartilaginous,  and  the  snout 
is  furnished  with  a particular  bone.  This  arrangement  is  appar- 
ently with  a view  to  facilitate  the  rooting  and  turning  up  the  earth, 
in  which  the  animal,  in  a state  of  nature,  finds  the  chief  portion  of 
its  subsistence.  The  teats  are  twelve  in  number ; the  body  is 
cylindrical  in  form,  and  is  covered  with  a thick  skin,  furnished, 
more  or  less,  with  bristles  and  stiff  hairs ; besides  which,  in  some 
varieties,  is  an  under  coat  of  close  curled  hair.  The  ear  is  either 
small  and  upright,  or  large  and  pendulous.  This*  member  forms 
the  chief  characteristic  of  the  domestic  hog,  and  a large  and  pen- 
dent ear  will  be  found  the  general  concomitant  of  large  size. 

The  Wild  Boar  is  the  origin  of  our  domestic  varieties  of  hog. 
They  resemble  him  closely  in  form,  and  when  permitted  the  en- 
joyment of  their  natural  propensities,  in  habits  also.  The  period 
of  gestation  in  the  wild  and  domestic  Sow  is  the  same,  viz.,  six- 
teen weeks,  and  the  two  animals  freely  breed  together,  and  pro- 
duce fertile  young ; and  these  young  will  breed  between  them- 
selves. Some  writers  have  asserted  the  hog  of  the  South  Sea 
Islands,  of  China,  and  the  Indian  dominions  to  be  distinct  species, 
but  without  foundation. 

The  Hog  is  to  be  found  in  Europe,  Asia,  and  the  North  ot 
Africa.  It  has  been  introduced  into,  and  thrives  in  America,  Aus- 
tralia, and  the  South  Sea  Islands.  In  America  he  presents  a slight 
variation  of  form  in  tl  3 Dicoteles,  and  in  Africa  in  the  Phaco- 
choeres.  That  of  the  South  Sea  Islands  has  been  asserted  to  be  a 


THE  WILD  ORIGINAL. 


15 


In  India,  boar-li unting  is  still  deemed  a favorite  diversion,  and 
is  eagerly  pursued.  The  chase  is  usually  followed  on  Arabian 
horses,  which  are  preferable  on  account  of  their  superior  speed  and 
tractability ; the  boar  goes  off  at  first  in  a slow  trot,  which  soon, 
on  being  pressed,  merges  into  a shambling  gallop ; the  pace  of  the 
animal  is  then  so  swift  that  he  can  only  be  taken  by  running 
down.  In  a run  of  three  miles  the  boar  has  often  escaped  alto- 
gether, and  instances  frequently  occur  of  the  chase  extending 
over  seven  miles  of  country.  The  ordinary  height  of  the  Indian 
boar  is  three  feet,  but  sometimes  three  feet  six  inches  in  height. 
The  young  of  the  Indian  animal  are  of  a pale  yellow  color,  irre- 
gularly brindled  with  yellowish  brown. 

In  former  times,  the  wild  boar  roamed  the  glades  of  our  own 
forests,  and,  as  one  of  the  noblest  beasts  of  chase,  had  the  honor 
of  enjoying,  with  his  compeers,  the  express  protection  of  royalty. 
Of  its  existence,  various  records  remain,  and  these  consisting 
chiefly  of  edicts  or  proclamations  that  had  been  issued,  announ- 
cing sundry  pains  and  penalties  as  the  consequence  of  its  illegal 
destruction. 

Fitzstephen,  who  wrote  in  the  latter  part  of  the  twelfth  century, 
states,  that  boars,  wolves,  wild  bulls,  and  other  game,,  abounded  in 
the  great  forests  surrounding  London  ; and  Scottish  writers  have 
not  foiled  to  mention  those  of  Scotland. 

Of  the  precise  date  of  the  extinction  of  the  wild  boar  in  the 
British  Islands,  wre  have  no  available  record  ; but  it  is  known,  that 
so  recently  as  the  date  of  Charles  I.  that  monarch  endeavored  to 
introduce  these  animals  to  the  New  Forest,  Hampshire;  these 
were,  however,  all  destroyed  in  the  civil  wars. 

We  conclude  this  chapter  with  a few  observations  as  to  the  es- 
timation in  which  the  hog  has  been  field  in  different  ages  and  in 
various  lands.  Moses,  the  inspired  lawgiver  of  the  Jews,  prohibit- 
ed the  use  of  swine’s  flesh  to  fiis  followers  : “Because  it.dividetfi 
the  hoof,  yet  chewetfi  not  the  cud.”  The  Egyptians  could  eat 
pork  only  once  a year,  viz.,  on  the  Feast-day  of  the  Moon,  on 
which  occasion  they  sacrificed  to  that  luminary  as  a goddess.  At 
all  other  times  the  hog  was  held  to  be  unclean ; and  if  any  one 
only  touched  one  of  these  animals,  he  could  not  enter  a temple, 
nor  hold  intercourse  with  his  fellow-men,  until  he  had  dipped, 
clothes  and  all,  in  the  waters  of  the  far-famed  Nile.  Those  em- 
ployed as  swineherds  belonged  to  a class  or  caste , degraded,  des- 
pised, and,  like  their  charge,  held  in  utter  abomination.  Tills 


16 


HOGS. 


aversion  to  the  hog  became  transmitted  to  Northern  Egypt,  and 
the  Copts  altogether  avoided  rearing  or  keeping  any  of  the  race, 
riie  causes  for  these  prohibitory  enactments  have  been  variously 
explained,  but  perhaps  the  most  probable  is,  that  in  Egypt,  Syria, 
and  even  the  southern  parts  of  Greece,  the  flesh  of  the  hog, 
though  in  appearance  white  and  delicate,  is  destitute  of  firmness, 
ark  .1  is  so  overloaded  with  fat  as  to  be  calculated  to  disagree  with 
the  strongest  stomach.  An  indulgence  in  such  pork,  therefore, 
under  a burning  sun,  would  possibly  be  attended  with  fatal  conse- 
quences. Tacitus  states,  as  the  cause  of  swine’s  flesh  being  re- 
jected by  the  Jews,  the  liability  of  that  animal  to  be  afflicted  with 
leprosy ; the  use  of  sow’s  milk  is  mentioned  by  Plutarch  as  pro- 
ductive of  that  loathsome  disease. 

It  has  been  affirmed  that  the  chief  cause  of  the  rejection  of  Ma- 
hometanism by  the  Chinese  was,  their  partiality  for  the  flesh  of 
the  hog,  denounced  by  that  religion  as  an  abomination. 

During  the  days  of  the  Roman  empire,  when  epicurism  had 
probably  attained  a greater  height  than  it  has  ever  since  been  per- 
mitted to  reach,  one  of  the  most  favorite  dishes  of  the  time,  as 
well  as  the  most  fashionable,  was  a pig  roasted  entire,  stuffed  with 
various  delicate  birds  and  spices,  steeped  in  choice  gravies  and 
costly  wines. 

Another  great  Roman  dish  was  an  entire  hog,  one  half  roast 
and  the  other  boiled,  and  so  carefully  and  curiously  prepared,  that 
the  most  accurate  eye  could  not  discover  the  process  by  which  the 
animal  had  been  put  to  death,  or  the  stuffing  introduced. 


CHAPTER  III. 

VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  HOG. 

Domestication  has  invariably  the  effect  of  producing  varieties 
of  any  given  species  of  animals.  These  variations  from  the  orig- 
inal, spring  from  variety  in  the  feeding  and  management — indi- 
vidual taste  or  caprice  in  breeding,  with  a view  to  a particular 
form  or  size — or  the  crossing  with  other  and  allied  stock.  It  is 
possible  that  all  these  have  operated  in  the  case  of  the  hog  ; and 
it  is  certain  that  we  have  now,  in  the  breeding  of  that  animal, 
arrived  as  nearly  at  perfection  as  we  could  reasonably  hope.  It 


THE  WILD  ORIGINAL. 


13 


The  sow  brings  forth  from  four  to  ten  little  ones  at  a litter.  The 
domestic  hog  is  more  prolific  than  his  wild  original,  and  even 
fourteen  and  fifteen  young  have  been  produced  by  the  domestic 
sow  at  one  litter.  At  birth,  the  sow  carefully  conceals  her  farrow 
from  the  boar,  who  would  otherwise  devour  them.  The  color  of 
the  young  of  the  wild  sow  is  a pale  yellowish  brown,  marked 
with  longitudinal  black  bands.  The  females  live  together  in 
herds  ; several  litters,  with  their  dams,  joining  company,  and  the 
young  boars  remain  with  the  herd  until  maturity.  The  habits  of 
the  wild  boar  are  nocturnal,  for  he  liesv close  during  the  day,  and 
in  the  evening  he  goes  forth  to  feed.  In  harvest  time  he  does 
much  mischief  to  the  grain  crops,  and  to  the  vineyards,  tramp- 
ling beneath  his  feet  more  than  he  consumes  as  food.  The  boar 
has  been  asserted  to  be  in  part  carnivorous,  and  it  has  been 
stated  that  he  eats  horseflesh,  and  that  the  skins  of  deer,  as  well 
as  claws  and  bones  of  birds,  have  been  found  in  his  stomach.  It 
has  even  been  stated  that  he  will  seek  for  and  devour  the  smaller 
kinds  of  game,  as  partridges,  leverets,  and  also  eggs.  Some,  in 
alluding  to  the  propensity  for  devouring  their  young,  frequently 
displayed  by  the  domestic  sow,  as  also  her  occasionally  destroying 
and  devouring  young  children  in  the  cradle,  have  endeavored  to 
account  for  it,  by  attributing  to  them  a violent  craving  for  blood  : 
this  may  be  so. 

Professor  Lowe  very  naturally  suggests  that  a sow’s  devouring 
her  young  is,  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  word,  an  unnatural  act, 
one  that  would  not  take  place  in  a state  of  nature,  and  most  pro- 
bably the  consequence  of  the  artificial  position  in  which  the  ani- 
mal is  placed, — surrounded  by  filth  and  damp,  and  exposed  to  the 
annoyance  of  being  constantly  disturbed  by  visitors  ; for  at  this 
period,  the  sow  is  particularly  irritable. 

As  to  their  destroying  children,  other  animals  have  done  so 
quite  as  frequently  as  the  swine  ; and  yet,  these  solitary  instances 
have  never  been  recorded  as  a stigma  upon  their  entire  race.  The 
fact  is,  that  the  poor  pig  has  far  more  than  its  just  share  of  sin  to 
answer  for. 

Hunting  the  wild  boar  is  an  exciting  and  dangerous  amuse- 
ment, perhaps  one  of  the  most  so  amongst  field  sports.  It  is  usu- 
ally followed  by  mounted  huntsmen,  armed  with  spears  or  rifles, 
aided  by  hounds,  and  attended  by  assistants,  called  on  the  conti- 
nent “ piqueurs”  or  prickers , whose  duty  it  is  to  find  and  rouse 
their  game  from  his  lurking  place.  The  boar  is  an  animal  of  no 


14 


HOGS. 


contemptible  swiftness,  and  it  is  not  every  horse  that  is  able  io 
keep  up  with  him,  when  once  fairly  afoot.  Unless  molested,  or 
his  lair  threatened  with  invasion,  the  boar  will  not  attack  man ; 
but  once  aroused,  his  ferocity  is  formidable,  and  his  defence  of  the 
most  resolute  description  ; he  displays  so  much  courage  and  de- 
termination, that  it  is  impossible  not  to  regard  his  character  as 
partaking  of  the  noble,  and  almost  to  regret  the  destruction  of  so 
brave  a foe.  When  overtaken  and  brought  to  bay,  is  the  time 
when  the  affray  becomes  invested  with  a serious  character.  Woe 
then  to  the  horse  who  suffers  himself  to  be  seduced  or  goaded 
into  too  close  proximity  with  the  infuriated  animal : woe  to  the  dog 
who  attempts  to  seize  the  monster  by  the  ear  or  flank,  prior  to  its 
strength  having  been  sufficiently  reduced  by  the  spears  or  bullets 
of  his  human  foes  : and  woe  to  the  huntsman,  who,  thrown  from 
his  steed,  or  whose  own  foolhardiness  has  induced  him  to  venture 
too  near,  fails  in  heart  or  hand,  so  as  to  cause  the  fatal  ball  to 
swerve  from  its  true  course,  or  direct  the  boarspear  with  nerve- 
lessness or  irresolution.  In  such  case,  death  and  destruction  are 
dealt  around ; — dogs,  horses,  and  men  are  successively  overthown 
with  ferocity  and  irresistible  force.  The  boar  inflicts  a terrific 
wound  with  his  tusks ; and  a horse  once  wounded  by  him,  can 
never  again  be  induced  to  approach  him.  Most  dogs  that  have 
been  thus  served,  and  have  recovered,  have  proved  useless 
cowards. 

The  wild  boar  of  Europe  is  now,  however,  by  no  means  the 
formidable  quarry  he  once  was  ; and,  in  the  foregoing  description, 
it  was  his  Indian  Congener  that  I had  more  particularly  in  view. 

An  old  French  newspaper  details  an  account  of  an  extraordinary 
boar  killed  near  Cognac,  in  Augoumois.  This  was  a beast  of 
most  formidable  dimensions  and  notoriety.  He  had  been  fre- 
quently hunted,  but  unavailingly ; his  prodigious  strength  and 
powers  of  endurance  bringing  him  off  on  all  occasions,  safe,  if  not 
scatheless ; he  had  killed  many  horses  and  dogs,  and  maimed  and 
killed  several  men ; when  at  last  slain,  several  bullets,  received 
during  previous  conflicts,  were  found  between  the  skin  and  the 
flesh.  His  size  was  prodigious,  but  liis  exact  measurement  not 
known.  He  had  a very  lengthened  head,  an  elongated  and  sharp 
snout,  and  a terrific  mouth,  with  formidable  tusks  of  unusual  mag- 
nitude and  shape.  The  hair  on  the  body  was  white,  on  the  head 
yellowish,  and  on  the  neck  was  a black  band  ; the  ears  were  very 
large  and  straight.  Notwithstanding  the  prodigious  bulk  of  this 
creature,  he  displayed  great  swiftness. 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  HOG. 


17 


were  well  that  breeders  always  knew  where  to  stop,  for  even  im- 
Drovement  has  a limit ; and  crossing,  when  carried  beyond  a cer- 
tain point,  will  almost  inevitably  result  in  deterioration. 

It  has  been  asserted,  that  there  exist  only  three  actual  varieties 
of  the  domestic  hog — the  Berkshire,  Chinese,  and  Highland,  or 
Irish ; and  that  all  other  breeds,  described  as  separate  varieties, 
are  nothing  more  than  offshoots  from  one  or  other  of  these  three 
main  stocks.  That  such,  to  a certain  extent,  is  the  case,  we  admit 
The  fact  is,  however,  that  we  are  indebted  for  our  numerous  varie- 
ties of  hog,  as  at  present  known,  not  only  to  these  three  well-known 
varieties,  but  also  to  the  African  hog — the  Spanish,  and  Portu- 
guese, and  the  Italian — chiefly,  however,  to  the  wild  boar  of  the 
European  forests. 

THE  CHINESE  HOG. 

The  Chinese  Hog  is  to  be  met  with  in  the  south-eastern  coun- 


tries of  Asia,  as  Siam,  Cochin  China,  the  Burman  empire,  Cambo- 
dia, Malacca,  Sumatra,  and  in  Batavia,  and  other  eastern  islands. 
There  are  varieties  of  the  hog  in  India  and  China,  and  hence  the 


18 


HOGS. 


occasional  confusion  of  nomenclature  met  with  in  books  of  natural 
history. 

There  are  two  well-marked  varieties  of  the  Chinese  hog — that 
trom  Siam,  and  that  from  China  proper.  The  chief,  if  not  only, 
point  of  difference  subsisting  between  them  is,  however,  in  color 
— the  Siamese  variety  being  usually  black  and  the  Chinese  white. 
Neither  of  these  hogs,  however,  present  constant  uniformity  in  this 
respect,  their  color  frequently  varying,  and  black  hogs  coming 
from  China,  while  white  ones  are  brought  from  Siam.  Even  in 
the  same  litter,  have  pigs  of  different  colors  frequently  been  seen, 
and  instances  of  the  occurrence  of  pied  individuals.  In  the  case  of 
all  animals  submitted  to  the  influence  of  domestication,  color 
alone  is  by  no  means  a safe  criterion  in  the  enumeration  of  varieties. 

The  Chinese  hog  is  of  small  size.  His  body  is  very  nearly  a 
perfect  cylinder  in  form ; the  back  slopes  from  the  shoulder,  and 
is  hollow,  while  the  belly  is  pendulous,  and  in  a fat  specimen 
almost  touches  the  ground.  The  ear  is  small  and  short,  inclines 
to  be  semi-erect,  and  usually  lies  rather  backward.  The  bone  is 
small,  the  legs  fine  and  short.  The  Bristles  are  so  soft  as  rather 
to  resemble  hair.  The  skin  itself  is,  in  the  Siamese  variety,  of  a 
rich  copper  color,  and  the  hair  black,  which  gives  to  the  general 
color  of  the  animal  somewhat  the  effect  of  bronzing.  In  the 
Chinese  variety,  the  color  is  usually  white,  sometimes  black,  and 
occasionally  pied.  The  white  sort  are  deemed  preferable,  from  the 
superior  delicacy  of  their  flesh.  The  face  and  head  of  the  Chinese 
pig  are  unlike  those  of  any  other  description  of  swine,  somewhat 
resembling  a calf. 

Both  the  Siamese  and  Chinese  hogs  are  very  good  feeders,  arrive 
early  at  maturity  (a  most  important  particular  in  any  description 
of  live  stock),  and  feed  fat,  on  less  food,  and  become  fatter  and 
heavier  within  a given  time,  than  any  of  our  European  varieties. 
The  Chinese  value  the  hog  very  highly ; they  live  more  upon  pork 
than  on  any  other  description  of  animal  food ; and  it  is  said,  that 
they  even  use  the  milk  of  the  sow. 

The  Chinese  take  great  care  of  their  swine,  and  pay  particular 
attention  to  the  quality  and  quantity  of  their  food,  feeding  them 
at  regular  and  stated  intervals.  They  do  not  permit  them  to  walk, 
but  when  necessary,  have  them  carried  from  one  place  to  another. 
They  keep  the  beds  and  styes  of  their  hogs  scrupulously  dry  and 
clean ; it  is  to  this  attention  that  Wo  are  possibly  to  attribute 
the  excellent  qualities  ©f  Chinese  pork.  The  Chinese  hogs  that 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  HOG. 


19 


wo  generally  see  in  this  country  come  principally  from  the  vicinity 
of  Canton,  brought  thence  as  sea  stock.  It  is  scarcely  to  be  re- 
gretted that  this  breed  is  not  sufficiently  hardy  to  thrive  in  our 
climate.  From  this  circumstance,  we  are  compelled  to  limit  the 
advantages  wc  might  otherwise  derive  from  its  introduction  to 
crossing  with  our  own  coarser  domestic  breeds  of  swine.  For  this 
purpose  it  is  truly  valuable  ; and  the  improved  race,  thus  produced, 
is  infinitely  superior  even  to  its  Chinese  progenitor,  the  latter,  in  a 
pure  state,  being  too  small,  and  hence  answering  rather  for  pork 
than  bacon,  besides  fattening  even  too  easily.  Both  these  objec- 
tions are  obviated  in  the  cross,  which  has  further  the  effect  of  re- 
storing diminished  fecundity. 

The  most  profitable  cross  to  be  resorted  to,  was,  in  the  first  in- 
stance, found  to  be  between  the  old  English,  which  is  not  unlike 
the  present  Irish  breed,  and  the  black  Chinese.  This  cross  pro- 
duced a most  capital  breed,  and  a little  judicious  intermixture  after- 
wards, with  proper  selection  of  boar  and  sow,  has  eventuated  in  the 
desired  improvement.  By  too  constant  crossing  with  the  Chinese, 
we  may  possibly  diminish  both  the  size  and  fecundity  of  our  own  hog. 
This  circumstance  should  induce  breeders  at  all  events  to  use  cau- 
tion and  judgment,  that  they  may  be  aware  of  the  precise  moment 
when  they  have  arrived  at  the  highest  attainable  perfection  ; these 
observations  will  apply  only  to  a very  limited  per  centage  of 
breeders ; the  majority,  requiring  rather  to  be  aroused  from  the 
indolence  which  induces  them  to  abstain  from  all  endeavors  towards 
bettering  the  condition  or  character  of  their  stock. 

The  Chinese  breed  is  not  so  well  known  in  Ireland  as  it  is  in 
England,  or  in  Scotland,  although  the  climate  of  the  last-Lamed 
country  appears  so  unsuitable  to  its  constitution.  France  culti- 
vated this  breed  earlier  than  we,  and  the  hog  usually  described 
as  the  Portuguese,  is  so  extremely  like  the  Chinese,  that  it  has 
been  made  a question  whether  these  varieties  are  not  identical. 

In  cases  where,  the  reader  has  reason  to  suspect  that  he  has 
crossed  too  long  from  the  Chinese  breed,  he  will  find  a dash  from 
the  wild  boar,  or  Westphalian,  most  valuable ; this  cross  will  aid 
in  restoring  size,  but  have  a still  greater  effect  on  the  quality  of 
the  meat,  causing  the  fat  and  lean  to  be  more  regularly  mixed, 
and  imparting  to  them  a delicacy  of  flavor  that  will  be  duly  ap- 
preciated by  the  lover  of  good  pork  or  of  sound  sweet  bacon.  The 
imperfections  in  shape,  and  excess  of  bone  and  offal  which  cha- 
racterize the  wild  boar,  will  altogether  disappear  in  the  finer  form 


20 


HOGS. 


of  the  degenerated  stock  with  which  you  cross  him.  This  cross  will 
further  supply  a suitable  thickness  of  skin — a most  essential 
quality,  especially  in  pork — for  in  thin-skinned  pork  the  cracklin 
or  skin  becomes  so  hard  and  metallic  that  no  teeth  can  master  it, 
whereas  in  a thick-skinned  animal  it  is  merely  gelatinous,  may  be 
easily  masticated,  and  is  a part  of  the  animal  too  much  valued  by 
epicures,  and  consequently  too  valuable  in  the  slvambles,  to  admit 
of  being  neglected  by  the  judicious  breeder  or  producer.  This 
thinness  of  skin,  so  objectionable  in  a pork  pig,  becomes  the  reverse 
when  the  animal  is  designed  for  bacon.  The  small  size,  however, 
of  the  eastern  hog  renders  him  only  suitable  for  pork , and  hence 
one  reason  why  too  long  crossing  from  him  should  be  avoided. 
The  thinness  or  thickness  of  the  skin  must  not  of  itself  alone  be 
deemed  a -recommendation  or  the  reverse.  The  thick  skin  must 
•not  be  coarse , for  a coarse  thick  skin  denotes  a bad  stock,  and  pork 
encased  in  such  a cuticle  is  shrunk  in  the  cooking  ; hence  a practice 
with  some  cooks  to  score  the  skin  even  of  boiled  pork,  in  order  to 
allow  to  the  flesh  room  sufficient  for  swelling. 


THE  BERKSHIRE. 


This  county  has  the  honor  of  being  the  first  to  avail  itself  oi 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  HOG. 


21 


the  opportunity  of  improvement  afforded  by  the  introduction  of 
foreign  stock,  nor  have  its  breeders  paused  where  they  began,  or 
omitted  following  up  with  judgment,  perseverance,  and  success, 
the  advantage  they  thus,  in  the  first  instance,  obtained. 

The  Berkshire  hog  is  of  large  size,  and  is  almost  invariably  of  a 
reddish  brown  color,  with  black  spots  or  patches.  The  ©Id  breed 
of  Berkshire  is  now  extinct,  and  has  been  so  for  many  years ; it 
had  maintained  a high  reputation  for  centuries.  It  was  long  and 
crooked-snouted,  the  muzzle  turning  upwards ; the  ears  large, 
heavy,  and  inclined  to  be  pendulous ; the  body  long  and  thick, 
but  not  deep ; the  legs  short,  the  bone  large,  and  the  size  very 
great.  This,  of  course,  was  not  any  thing  like  perfection ; the 
want  of  depth  of  body  and  the  'weight  of  bone  were  highly  objec- 
tionable, but  it  was  altogether  a material  improvement  upon  the 
gaunt  and  rugged  old  English  pig,  whom  it  speedily  superseded. 

The  modern  and  improved  Berkshire  was  in  Laurence’s  time 
lighter  both  in  head  and  ear,  shorter  and  more  compactly  formed, 
with  less  bone,  and  higher  on  the  leg.  This  breed  has  been  since 
still  further  improved  by  judicious  crossing ; it  still  has  large  ears, 
inclining  forward,  but  erect,  is  deep  in  the  body,  with  short  legs, 
small  bone,  arrives  early  at  maturity,  and  fattens  easily  and  with 
remarkable  rapidity.  In  these  improvements  we  recognize  the 
results  of  intermixture  with  the  Chinese,  but  also  with  another 
variety  yet  to  be  described.  The  colors  and  marking  of  the 
Berkshire  hog  show  him  also  to  owe  a portion  of  his  blood  to  the 
wild  boar.  The  true  and  improved  breed  of  Berkshire  is  of  large 
6ize.  One  of  the  greatest  improvers  of  modern  times  was  Richard 
A.stley,  Esq.,  of  Oldstone  Hall. 

THE  OLD  IRISH  “GREYHOUND  HOG.” 

These  are  tall,  long-legged,  bony,  lieavy-eared,  coarse-haired 
animals,  their  throats  furnished  with  pendulous  wattles,  and  by  no 
means  possessing  half  so  much  the  appearance  of  domestic  swine 
as  they  do  of  the  wild  boar,  the  great  orig  nal  of  the  race.  In 
Ireland  the  old  gaunt  race  of  hogs  has,  for  many  years  past,  been 
gradually  wearing  away,  and  is  now  perhaps  wholly  confined  to 
the  western  parts  of  that  comitry,  especially  Galway.  These  swine 
are  remarkably  active,  and  will  clear  a five-barred  gate  as  well  as 
any  hunter ; on  this  account  they  should,  if  it  be  desirable  to  keep 
them,  be  kept  in  well-fenced  inclosures.  The  breed  of  hogs  it 


22 


HOGS. 


Ireland  has  improved  greatly  of  late  years,  and  this,  the  old  un- 
profitable stock,  is  rapidly  disappearing.  The  form  of  the  Irish 
hog  is  now  so  nearly  approximated  to  that  of  the  English,  that 
the  two  animals  are  not  readily  distinguished  from  each  other. 

Notwithstanding  the  rather  unpromising  exterior  presented  1 y 
the  original  old  Irish  hog,  it  would  be  unfair  to  omit  recording  his 
peculiar  susceptibility  of  improvement.  It  may  be  well  to  add 
that  the  Irish  swine  possesses  flesh  of  a peculiarly  good  flavor 

The  most  remarkable  breeds  of  hogs,  are  those  of : 


SUFFOLK  BOAR. 


Suffolk,  said  by  most  writers  to  be  the  most  nearly  related 
to  the  Chinese  : my  reasons  for  espousing  this  opinion  will  be 
found  in  the  description  of  the  animal,  that  of  the  Chinese  being 
at  the  same  time  duly  borne  in  mind.  The  Suffolk  breed  of  Swine 
are  a small,  delicate  pig,  thin-skinned,  soft-haired,  small,  pricked 
ear, — color  white;  they  are  in  character  like  the  Chinese,  fed 
almost  as  easily,  are  more  hardy,  and  possess  more  lean  meat. 

The  Cheshire  breed  is  chiefly  remarkable  for  its  vast  size, 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  HOG. 


23 


which  is  almost  gigantic.  It  has  a very  large  and  heavy  head, 
long  nairow  body,  long  legs,  large  bone,  great  heavy  ears,  and 
loose,  ungainly  skin : color,  large  patches  of  black  and  white,  or 
blue  and  white,  or  white.  This  breed  is  susceptible  of  much  im- 
provement by  crossing  with  the  Chinese,  or  the  Neapolitan. 

The  Hampshire. — This  breed  is  not  unfrequently  confounded 
with  the  Berkshire,  but  its  body  is  longer,  and  its  sides  flatter ; 
the  head  is  long,  and  the  snout  sharp.  The  color  is  usually  dark 
spotted,  but  sometimes  black  altogether,  and  sometimes  white.  In 
many  parts  of  Hampshire,  . especially  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
New  Forest,  it  is  usual  to  permit  swine  to  pass  a considerable 
portion  of  their  existence  in  the  woods;  the  result  is  superior 
quality  of  flesh,  exhibiting  much  resemblance  to  that  of  the  West- 
phalian hog,  but  still  more  delicately  flavored.  On  this  account, 
the  Hampshire  bacon  is  in  much  demand,  and  fetches  a higher 
price  than  that  of  Westphalia.  This  is  partly  attributable  to  the 
mode  of  curing.  The  original  breed  of  Hampshire  was  not  such 
as  I have  described,  being  generally  of  a white  color,  coarse,  raw- 
boned,  and  flat-sided.  The  present  race  owes  its  origin  to  the 
Berkshire,  Suffolk,  and  Chinese  breeds,  and  latterly  to  a cross  from 
the  Leicester  ; the  effect  of  the  last  has  been  increase  of  size,  the 
original  race  seldom  exceeding  four  hundred  pounds. 

The  Yorkshire. — The  old  breed  was  about  the  very  worst  and 
most  unprofitable  we  had,  being  gaunt  and  greyhound  shaped, 
with  long,  ungainly  legs  and  great  excess  of  bone.  Its  constitu- 
tion was  likewise  bad,  it  did  not  well  endure  the  cold  of  winter, 
when  severe,  and  hence  was  a bad  sty-pig.  These  swine,  how- 
ever, attracted  the  attention  of  breeders  to  the  improvement  of 
their  form,  for  they  possessed  one  excellent  quality.  They  were 
quicker  feeders,  and  fattened  more  rapidly  than  many  pigs  more 
promising  in  external  appearance.  The  improvement  that  ulti- 
mately proved  successful  was  a cross  with  the  true  Berkshire. 

Shropshire. — The  original  pigs  of  this  county  were  of  a white 
or  brindled  color ; the  head  was  long  and  coarse,  the  ear  large 
and  flabby,  and  the  hair  wiry — the  leg  also  too  long  and  the 
weight  of  the  bone  great.  A cross  with  the  Berkshire  and  ori- 
ginal Chinese  has  greatly  improved  this  stock.  The  same  may  be 
said  of  the 

Wiltshire  breed,  originally,  it  is  believed,  from  Wales.  They 
were  long-bodied,  low  and  hollow  about  the  shoulder — high  on 
the  rump,  of  middling  size,  round-limbed  large  pointed  ear  ; o! 


24 


HOGS. 


a light  color.  Of  itself,  of  comparatively  little  value,  hut  like  the 
preceding  breed,  an  excellent  cross  with  the  Berkshire  stock. 

Herefordshire. — Generally  supposed  to  be  the  result  of  a 
cross  with  the  Shropshire ; it  is  shorter  in  the  body,  carries  less 
bone  than  that  breed,  has  also  a lighter  head,  a smaller  ear,  a less 
rugged  coat,  and  is  altogether  a far  more  valuable  animal.  This 
hog  is  little  inferior  to  the  Berkshire  breed. 

Gloucestershire. — The  Gloucestershire  hogs  are  somewhat 
less  in  size  than  the  preceding,  and  are  also  shorter  in  the  body, 
rounder  both  in  frame  and  limb,  and  altogether  more  compactly 
built.  They  make  good  store  hogs,  and  their  pork  is  of  prime 
quality. 

Northamptonshire,  of  a light  color,  of  a handsome  shape, 
light  and  small  ear,  little  bone,  deepsided  and  compactly  formed. 
This  is  a profitable  porker  and  a good  store,  for  he  feeds  well, 
fattens  rapidly,  and  arrives  early  at  maturity. 

Norfolk. — A small  breed,  with  pricked  erect  ears  ; color  vari- 
ous, but  generally  white.  The  white  colored  are  said  to  be  the 
best ; when  striated  or  blue,  the  breed  is  inferior,  at  least  generally 
so.  This  is  a short-bodied  and  compactly  formed  pig,  and  is  an 
excellent  porker.  There  is  another  Norfolk  variety,  of  larger  size^ 
•potted,  but  inferior  in  point  of  delicacy. 


THE  LEICESTER  SOW. 


Leicestershire. — An  ancient  breeding  district,  and  once  great- 
ly celebrated  for  its  swine.  The  old  stock  were  large-sized,  deep 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  HOG.  25 

in  the  carcass,  and  flat-sided  ; head  and  ear  light  and  handsome  • 
color  light  spotted. 

Lincolnshire. — The  old  Lincolnshire  breed  was  light  color- 
ed,  or  even  white,  with,  in  most  specimens,  a curly  and  woolly 
coat,  of  medium  size  ; good  feeders,  came  early  to  maturity,  and 
fattened  easily. 

The  Essex  was  in  former  days  a very  capital  hog,  but  degene- 
rated, and,  of  course,  lost  the  esteem  of  breeders.  A recollection 
of  the  former  good  qualities  which  characterized  the  breed  in- 
duced some  persons  of  practical  judgment  to  revive  it,  which  was 
accordingly  done ; and  now  this  hog,  under  the  name  of 

The  Improved  Essex,  ranks,  most  justly,  very  high  amongst 
our  British  breeds  of  swine.  The  improvement  of  this  hog  is  due 
to  a cross  with  the  Neapolitan  ; and  this  cross  has  been  so  fre- 
quently resorted  to,  that  the  pure  Essex  breed  and  the  Neapoli- 
tan are  so  much  alike  that  it  is  not  every  cursory  observer  who 
is  capable  of  discriminating  between  them.  It  is  probable,  also, 
that  the  Chinese,  was  employed  in  the  regeneration.  The  Essex 
hog  is  up-eared  ; has  a long,  sharp  head  ; a long  and  level  carcass, 
with  small  bone ; color  most  frequently  black,  or  black  and 
white.  This  is  a quicker  feeder,  but  he  requires  a greater  propor- 
tion of  food  than  the  weight  he  attains  to  justifies  ; besides  which, 
he  is  troublesome  in  a fold,  being  restless  and  discontented.  The 
pure  breed  should  be  almost  bare  of  hair,  and  black  in  color. 

There  is  another  improved  Essex  breed  called  the  Essex  half 
blacks , resembling  that  which  I have  described  in  color,  said  to  be 
descended  from  the  Berkshire.  This  breed  was  originally  intro- 
duced by  Lord  Western,  and  obtained  much  celebrity.  They  are 
olack  and  white,  short-haired,  fine-skinned,  with  smaller  heads  and 
ears  than  the  Berkshire,  feathered  with  inside  hair,  a distinctive 
mark  of  both ; have  short,  snubby  noses,  very  fine  bone,  broad 
and  deep  in  the  belly,  full  in  the  hind  quarters,  and  light  in  the 
bone  and  offal.  They  feed  remarkably  quick,  grow  fast,  and  are 
of  an  excellent  quality  of  meat.  The  sows  are  good  breeders,  and 
bring  litters  of  from  eight  to  twelve,  but  they  have  the  character 
of  being  bad  nurses. 

The  Sussex. — Black  and  white  in  color,  but  not  spotted,  that  is 
to  say,  these  colors  are  distributed  in  very  large  patches  ; one-half 
—say,  for  instance,  the  forepart  of  the  body — white,  and  the 
hinder  end  black ; or  sometimes  both  ends  black,  and  the  middle 
2 


26 


HOGS. 


white,  or  the  reverse.  These  are  no  way  remarkable ; they  sel- 
dom feed  over  160  lbs. 


The  Original  Old  English  Breed  was  not  very  unlike  the 
Old  Irish  or  Highland  ; long  in  the  legs,  large  coarse  car,  heavy 
head,  rugged  hair,  and  carrying  too  much  bone  to  be  profitable. 
This  breed  has  yielded  to  the  march  of  improvement ; and,  unless 
in  parts  of  Cornwall,  it  would  be  difficult  to  discover  a surviving 
specimen. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  HOG  CONTINUED — CONTINENTAL 
VARIETIES. 

Of  the  Continental  varieties  of  the  hog,  the  most  important, 
and  which  requires  our  attention  in  the  first  instance,  is 

The  Westphalian. — This  is  the  animal  whose  hams  are  so 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  HOG. 


27 


much  relished  amongst  us,  and  which,  on  that  account,  form  no 
small  item  of  the  importations  for  which  we  are  indebted  to  our 
German  neighbors.  The  Westphalian  hog  requires  little  descrip- 
tion, for  he  is  a very  near  relative  of  the  wild  boar  of  his  native 
countiy ; and  like  that  fierce  and  once  formidable  animal,  usually 
roams  at  large  in  the  forest,  feeding  chiefly  upon  beechmast  and 
acorns,  until  slaughtered.  The  color  of  the  adult  Westphalian 
hog  varies ; but  in  every  case  whatever  may  be  the  hue  of  the  pa- 
rents, the  young  are,  at  birth  and  for  some  months  afterwards, 
marked  with  the  longitudinal  bands*  characteristic  of  their  wild 
blood.  As  to  the  improvement  resulting  from  an  occasional  cross 
with  the  wild  original,  I refer  to  the  animal  under  consideration. 
It  is,  in  the  first  instance,  to  the  cross  that  their  excellent  quality 
of  flesh  must  be  attributed. 

The  Westphalian  swine  are  seldom  over-fat ; but  they  are  not 
on  that  account  to  be  deemed  difficult  to  fatten.  On  the  contrary, 
they  will,  if  kept  up,  take  fat  with  remarkable  facility,  and  attain 
an  enormous  weight. 

The  Neapolitan  Swine. — This  is  a variety  well  worthy  of  at- 
tention, as  a cross  from  it  is  productive  of  very  remarkable  im- 
provement. The  color  of  the  Neapolitan  swine  is  black,  with  no 
bristles,  and  little  or  no  hair.  The  flesh  of  these  swine  is  ex- 
tremely delicately  flavored,  and  the  fat  has  not  that  rankness  so 
objectionable  in  some  other  varieties ; they  are  anything  but 
hardy  animals,  not  being  able  to  endure  our  climate  ; it  is  merely 
as  affording  the  opportunity  of  forming,  by  crossing,  a valuable 
mixed  breed,  that  they  are  deserving  of  notice.  With  the  true 
Berkshire  breed,  the  Neapolitan  produces  a cross,  surpassed  by 
none  in  every  desirable  quality,  especially  if  a dash  of  the  whitt 
Chinese  be  added.  The  intermixture  of  these  breeds — the  Nea- 
politan, Chinese,  and  Berkshire — may  be  regarded,  if  done  judi- 
ciously, as  the  perfection  of  swine  breeding.  After  having  been 
a short  time  in  this  country,  the  Neapolitan  hog  begins  to  lose  his 
naked  appearance,  and  to  acquire  a coat  better  suitable  to  a more 
chilly  climate. 

The  French  Swine. — The  French  appear  to  have  long  knowi> 
the  value  of  a cross  with  the  Chinese  variety  of  hog,  and  most  oi 
their  best  breeds  bear  evidence  of  having,  more  or  less,  relation- 
ship to  that  animal.  The  most  remarkable  French  breeds  are, 
those  of  Poitou,  the  Pays  d’Auge,  Perigord,  Champagne,  and 
Boulogne 


28 


HOGS. 


The  Poitou  has  a long  and  rather  bulky  head,  with  pendulous 
and  somewhat  coarse  ears — an  elongated  body,  broad  and  strong 
feet,  and  lar^e  bones  ; its  hair  and  bristles  are  harsh.  That  of  the 
Pays  d’Auge  has  a smaller  head,  with  a sharp  muzzle,  narrow  and 
pointed  ears,  long  body,  broad  and  strong  limbs,  but  small  bone — 
hair  coarse,  scanty  in  quantity,  and  of  a white  color.  The  Perigord 
swine  are  generally  black — a very  short  and  lumpy  neck,  with  a 
broad  and  compact  carcass.  Those  of  Champagne  are  of  considera- 
ble size,  long-bodied  and  flat-sided,  with  a broad  pendant  ear. 
Those  of  Boulogne  are  related  to  the  English  breeds.  Their 
color  is  usually  white.  They  are  of  a large  size,  have  a large  broad 
ear,  and  are  quick  fatteners.  It  is  to  these  swine  that  we  are  in- 
debted for  the  celebrated  Boulogne  sausages. 


CHAPTER  V. 

POINTS  OF  A GOOD  HOG. 

I would  caution  the  reader  against  being  led  away  by  mere 
name,  in  his  selection  of  a hog.  A hog  may  be  called  a Berkshire , 
or  a Suffolk , or  any  other  breed  most  in  estimation,  and  yet  may, 
in  reality,  possess  none  of  this  valuable  blood.  The  only  sure 
mode  by  which  the  buyer  will  be  able  to  avoid  imposition  is,  to 
make  name  always  secondary  to  points.  If  you  find  a hog  pos- 
sessed of  such  points  of  form  as  are  calculated  to  ensure  early 
maturity,  and  facility  of  taking  flesh,  you  need  care  little  what  it 
has  seemed  good  to  the  seller  to  call  him ; and  remember  that  no 
name  can  bestow  value  upon  an  animal  deficient  in  the  qualities  to 
which  I have  alluded*/  The  true  Berkshire — that  possessing  a dash 
of  the  Chinese  and  Neapolitan  varieties — comes,  perhaps,  nearer 
to  the  desired  standard  than  any  other.  The  chief  points  which 
characterize  such  a hog  are  the  following  : — In  the  first  place,  suffi- 
cient depth  of  carcass,  and  such  an  elongation  of  body  as  will  en- 
sure a sufficient  lateral  expansion.  Let  the  loin  and  breast  be 
broad.  The  breadth  of  the  former  denotes  good  room  for  the  play 
of  the  lungs,  and  a consequent  free  and  healthy  circulation,  essen- 
tial to  the  thriving  or  fattening  of  any  animal.  The  bone  should 
be  small,  and  the  joints  fine — nothing  is  more  indicative  of  high 
breeding  than  this  ; and  the  legs  should  be  no  longer  than,  when 


POINTS  OF  A GOOD  HOG. 


29 


full  fat.  would  just  prevent  the  animal’s  belly  from  trailing  upon 
the*  ground.  The  leg  is  the  least  profitable  portion  of  the  hog,  and 
we  require  no  more  of  it  than  is  absolutely  necessary,  for  the  sup- 
port of  the  rest.  See  that  the  feet  be  firm  and  sound  ; that  the 
toes  lie  well  together,  and  press  straightly  upon  the  ground ; as, 
also,  that  the  claws  are  even,  upright,  and  healthy.  Many  say 
that  the  form  of  the  head  is  of  little  or  no  consequence,  and  that  a 
good  hog  may  have  an  ugly  head ; but  I regard  the  head  of  all 
animals  as  one  of  the  very  principal  points  in  which  pure  or  im- 
pure breeding  will  be  the  most  obviously  indicated.  A high-bred 
animal  will  invariably  be  found  to  arrive  more  speedily  at  maturity, 
to  take  flesh  earlier,  and  with  greater  facility,  and,  altogether,  to 
turn  out  more  profitably,  than  one  of  questionable  or  impure  stock ; 
and,  such  being  the  case,  I consider  that  the  head  of  the  hog  is,  by 
no  means,  a point  to  be  overlooked  by  the  purchaser.  The  de- 
scription of  head  most  likely  to  promise,  or  rather  to  be  the  con- 
comitant of,  high  breeding,  is  one  not  carrying  heavy  bone,  not  too 
flat  on  the  forehead,  or  possessing  a too  elongated  snout — the 
snout  should  be  short,  and  the  forehead  rather  convex,  curving  up- 
wards ; and  the  ear  should  be,  while  pendulous,  inclining  somewhat 
forward,  and,  at  the  same  time,  light  and  thin.  Nor  should  the 
buyer  pass  over  even  the  carnage  of  a pig.  If  this  be  dull, 
heavy,  and  dejected,  reject  him,  on  suspicion  of  ill  health,  if  not  of 
some  concealed  disorder  actually  existing,  or  just  about  to  break 
forth  ; and  there  cannot  be  a more  unfavorable  symptom  than  a 
hung-down,  slouching  head.  Of  course,  a fat  hog  for  slaughter, 
or  a sow  heavy  with  young,  have  not  much  sprightliness  of  deport- 
ment. 

Nor  is  color  altogether  to  be  lost  sight  of.  In  the  case  of  hogs, 
I would  prefer  those  colors  which  are  characteristic  of  our  most 
esteemed  breeds.  If  the  hair  be  scant,  I would  look  for  black,  as 
denoting  connection  with  the  Neapolitan  ; but  if  too  bare  of  hair, 
I would  be  disposed  to  apprehend  too  intimate  alliance  with  that 
variety,  and  a consequent  want  of  hardihood,  that,  however  unim- 
portant if  pork  be  the  object,  renders  such  animals  hazardous 
speculations  as  stores,  from  their  extreme  susceptibility  of  cold,  and 
consequent  liability  to  disease.  If  white,  and  not  too  sn  all,  I would 
like  them,  as  exhibiting  connection  with  the  Chinese.  If  light  or 
sandy,  or  red  with  black  marks,  I would  recognize  our  favorite 
Berkshire ; and  so  on,  with  reference  to  every  possible  variety  of 
hue.  These  observations  may  appear  trivial ; but  they  are  the 


30 


HOGS. 


most  important  I have  yet  made,  and  the  pig  buyer  will  find  his 
account  in  attending  to  them. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HOUSES  AND  PIGGERIES. 

An  enclosure,  proportionate  to  the  number  of  swine  which  you 
intend  to  keep,  and,  if  possible,  so  managed  as  to  admit  of  extend- 
ing the  accommodation,  will  be  found  the  best  for  general  purposes. 
It  should  be  provided  with  a range  of  sheds,  so  situated  as  to  be 
thoroughly  sheltered  from  wind  and  weather,  paved  at  the  bottom, 
and  sloping  outwards.  Relative  to  the  paramount  necessity  of 
cleanliness  and  dryness,  let  both  enclosure  and  sheds  possess  the 
means  of  being  kept  so.  In  order  to  keep  the  sheds,  which  are 
designed  as  sleeping  places,  in  a dry  and  clean  state,  an  inclination 
outwards  is  necessary : a shallow  drain  should  run  along  the  whole 
of  their  extent,  in  order  to  receive  whatever  wet  flows  down  the 
inclined  plane  of  the  sleeping  huts  ; and  provision  should  also  be 
made  for.  this  drain  to  carry  off  all  offensive  matters  beyond  the 
precincts  of  the  piggery. 

The  ground,  on  which  the  piggery  is  established,  should  likewise 
be  divided  into  two  parts,  by  a drain,  which  should  run  through 
it ; and  towards  this  drain  each  section  should  slope.  This  the 
main  drain  should  be  carried  beyond  the  fold,  and  fall  into  a large 
tank  or  pit  formed  for  that  purpose.  The  object  in  view  is  to  keep 
the  pig-fold  and  styes  in  a clean  and  dry  state,  and  to  preserve  the 
valuable  liquid  manure , which  comes  from  the  animals  you  keep. 
Some  will  probably  inquire  whether  it  would  not  be  better  to 
suffer  the  moisture  to  soak  into  earth  or  straw,  or  other  substances 
on  the  jloor  of  the  enclosure,  and  then  to  clear  all  away  periodi- 
cally, than  to  drain  off  the  liquid  into  a tank.  By  drawing  off 
the  liquid  you  add  to  the  cleanliness  of  your  swine,  and,  in  propor- 
tion, to  their  health  and  capacity  for  thriving ; and  the  collection 
of  the  liquid  manure  into  tanks  is  less  troublesome  than  the  re- 
moval of  substances,  saturated  with  it,  from  the  floor  of  the  fold, 
would  be. 

The  sties  should  be  so  constructed  as  to  acknit  of  being  closed 
up  altogether,  when  desirable  ; for  swine,  even  the  hardiest  breeds. 


HOUSES  AND  PIGGEK1ES. 


31 


are  susceptible  of  cold,  and  if  exposed  to  it  in  severe  weather,  it 
will  materially  retard  their  fattening.  The  sty  should  be  kept  con- 
stantly supplied  with  clean  straw.  The  refuse  carted  into  the  tank, 
will,  in  the  form  of  manure,  more  than  repay  the  value  of  the 
straw.  It  lias  been  asserted,  that  swine  do  not  thrive,  if  kept  to- 
gether upon  the  same  ground  in  considerable  numbers ; this  asser- 
tion rests  on  a want  of  ventilation  and  cleanliness. 

As  to  troughs , let  them  be  of  stone  or  cast  metal ; — if  of  wood, 
the  pigs  will  soon  gnaw  them  to  pieces ; — and  let  them  be  kept 


A,  B.  front ; C,  C,  rear  for  pens  ; 5,  5,  pens  with  alley  between ; v,  v,  v,  v, 
vats  on  level  with  pens:  1,  safety  valve  ; 2,  Steam  pipe;  3,  supply  barrel 
to  boiler ; 6,  boiler ; /,  furnace  ; jd,  platform  partly  over  boiler;  4,  chimney; 
f,  drain ; te,  water-cistern  ; g,  door  to  cellar ; s:  s,  stairs ; d,  d , doors  ; 6,  6, 
scuttles  to  cellar  ; y.  ?y,  yards  to  pens. 


32 


HOGS. 


clean.  Before  each  feeding,  a pail  of  water  should  be  dashed  into 
the  trough  : this  may  be  deemed  troublesome,  but  it  will  confei 
yolden  returns  on  those  who  attend  to  it. 

A supply  of  fresh  water  is  essential  to  the  well-being  of  swine, 
and  should  be  freely  furnished.  Some  recommend  this  to  be 
effected  by  having  a stream  brought  through  the  piggery ; and 
undoubtedly,  when  this  can  be  managed,  it  answers  better  than 
any  thing  else.  Swine  are  dirty  feeders,  and  dirty  drinkers, 
usually  plunging  their  fore-feet  into  the  trough  or  pail,  and  thus 
polluting  with  mud  and  dirt  whatever  may  be  given  to  them.  One 
of  the  advantages,  therefore,  derivable  from  the  stream  of  running 
water  being  brought  through  the  fold  is,  its  being,  by  its  run- 
ning, kept  constantly  clean  and  wholesome.  If,  therefore,  you 
are  unable  to  procure  this  advantage,  it  will  be  desirable  to  present 
water  in  vessels  of  a size  to  receive  but  one  head  at  a time,  and  of 
such  height  as  to  render  it  impossible,  or  difficult,  for  the  drinker 
to  get  his  feet  into  it.  The  water  should  be  renewed  twice  daily. 

I have  hitherto  been  describing  a piggery  capable  of  contain- 
ing a large  number ; a greater  proportional  profit  will  be  realized 
by  keeping  a number  of  swine  than  a few.  It  may  happen, 
however,  that  want  of  capital,  or  of  inclination  to  embark  in 
swine-feeding  as  an  actual  speculation,  may  induce  many  to 
prefer  keeping  a small  number  of  pigs,  or  even  perhaps  one  or  two. 
in  which  case  such  accommodations  as  I have  been  describing 
would  be  more  than  superfluous.  In  this  case,  a single  hut,  well 
sheltered  from  wind  and  rain,  and  built  with  a due  regard  to  com- 
fort, to  warmth,  with  a little  court  surrounding  its  door,  in  which 
the  tenant  may  feed,  obey  the  calls  of  nature,  and  disport  himselfi 
or  bask  in  the  sunshine,  will  be  found  to  answer ; a small  stone 
trough,  or  a wooden  one,  bound  with  iron,  to  preserve  it  from 
being  gnawed  to  pieces,  will  complete  the  necessary  furniture.  The 
trough  will  serve  alternately  for  food  and  drink.  Even,  however, 
when  this  limited  accommodation  is  resorted  to,  a strict  attention 
to  cleanliness  is  no  less  necessary  than  when  operations  are  carried 
on,  on  the  most  extensive  scale.  Both  the  floor  of  the  hut  and 
that  of  the  little  court  should  be  paved,  and  should  incline  out- 
wards ; along  the  lowest  side  should  be  a drain,  with  a sufficient 
declination,  and  so  contrived  as  to  communicate  with  your  dung- 
tank.  The  farther  the  manure-heap,  or  tank,  from  the  dwelling, 
the  better  : vegetable  matter,  in  progress  of  decomposition,  give? 
rise  to  pestilential  vapors,  or  miasmata. 


BREEDING,  REARING  AND  FEEDING. 


33 


When  the  weather  is  fine,  a few  hours’  liberty  will  serve  the 
health  and  the  condition  of  your  hog,  and  a little  grazing  would 
be  all  the  better.  Should  you  be  desirous  of  breeding,  and  keep 
a sow  for  that  purpose,  you  must,  if  you  have  a second  hog,  pro- 
vide a second  sty,  for  the  sow  will  require  a separate  apartment 
when  heavy  in  pig,  and  when  giving  suck.  This  may  be  easily 
effected  by  building  it  against  that  which  you  have  already  erected, 
thus  saving  the  trouble  of  raising  more  walls  than  are  absolutely 
necessary ; and  it  need  not  have  a court  attached  it,  should  it  be 
inconvenient  for  you  to  have  one,  as  the  best  accommodation  can- 
be  given  up  to  the  breeding  sow,  and  your  pigs  will  do  well  enough 
with  a single  apartment,  if  not  too  confined,  and  have  sufficient 
ventilation  ; and  if  you  permit  them  the  advantage  of  taking  the 
air  for  a few  hours  daily.  The  extensive  feeder  should  have  a 
boiler  of  large  size,  properly  fitted  up,  and  an  apparatus  for  steam- 
ing, as  some  vegetables  are  cooked  in  this  mode  more  advan- 
tageously than  by  boiling.  The  poor  man  can  use  a pot  as  a sub- 
stitute for  a boiler,  remembering  in  every  case  to  clean  it  before 
using.  Food  should  be  presented  to  swine  in  a warm  state — 
neither  too  hot  nor  too  cold. 

A sty  should  be  about  seven  or  eight  feet  square,  and  the 
court  about  ten  feet.  The  second  sty  need  not  be  more  than  six 
feet  square,  and  does  not  absolutely  require  a court. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

BREEDING,  REARING,  AND  FEEDING. 

In  the  selection  of  a boar  and  sow  for  breeding,  much  more  atten- 
tion and  consideration  are  necessary  than  people  generally  imagine. 
It  is  as  easy,  with  a very  little  judgment  and  management,  to 
procure  a good  as  an  inferior  breed ; and  the  former  is  infinitely 
more  remunerative,  in  proportion  to  outlay,  than  the  latter  can 
possibly  ever  be. 

In  selecting  the  parents  of  your  future  stock,  you  must  bear  in 
mind  the  precise  objects  you  may  have  in  view,  whether  the 
rearing  for  pork,  or  bacon ; and  whether  you  desire  to  meet  the 
earliest  market,  and  thus  realize  a certain  profit,  with  the  least 
possible  outlay  of  monev,  or  loss  of  time ; or  whether  you  mean 
2* 


34 


HOGS. 


to  be  contented  to  await  a heavier,  although  somewhat  protracted 
return. 

If  bacon,  and  the  late  market  be  your  object,  you  will  do  well 
to  select  the  large  and  heavy  varieties,  taking  care  that  the  breed 
has  the  character  of  being  possessed  of  those  qualities  most  likely 
to  ensure  a heavy  return,  viz : growth , and  facility  of  taking  fat, 
relatively  possessed  by  each.  To  that  description  I refer  my  reader. 

If  your  object  be  to  produce  pork,  you  will  find  your  account  in 
the  smaller  varieties  ; such  as  arrive  with  greatest  rapidity  at  ma- 
turity, and  which  are  likely  to  produce  the  most  delicate  flesh.  In 
producing  pork,  it  is  not  advisable  that  it  should  be  too  fat,  without 
a corresponding  proportion  of  lean ; and,  on  this  account,  rather 
take  a cross-breed  sow  than  a pure  Chinese  stock,  from  which  the 
over-fattening  results  might  most  naturally  be  apprehended.  The 
Berkshire,  crossed  with  Chinese,  is  about  the  best  porker  I can 
mention. 

In  every  case,  whether  your  object  be  pork  or  bacon,  the  points 
to  be  looked  for  are, — in  the  Sow,  a small,  lively  head,  a broad  and 
deep  chest,  round  ribs,  capacious  barrel,  a haunch,  falling  almost 
to  the  hough,  deep  and  broad  loin,  ample  hips,  and  considerable 
length  of  body  in  proportion  to  its  height.  One  qualification  should 
ever  be  kept  in  view,  and,  perhaps,  should  be  the  first  point  to 
which  the  attention  should  be  directed,  viz.:  smallness  of  bone. 

Let  the  Boar  be  less  in  size  than  the  sow,  shorter  and  more 
compact  in  form,  with  a raised  and  brawny  neck,  lively  eye,  small 
head,  firm,  hard  flesh,  and  his  neck  well  furnished  with  bristles, — 
in  other  respects,  look  for  the  same  points  as  I have  described  in 
reference  to  the  sow.  Breeding  within  too  close  degrees  of  con- 
sanguinity, or,  breeding  in  and  in,  is  calculated  to  produce  degene- 
racy in  size,  and  also  to  impair  fertility ; it  is  therefore  to  be 
avoided,  although  some  breeders  maintain  that  a first  cross  does 
no  harm,  but,  on  the  contrary,  that  it  produces  offspring  which  are 
disposed  to  arrive  earlier  at  maturity,  and  take  fat  with  greater 
facility.  This  may  in  some  instances  be  the  case ; it  is  so  with 
horned  cattle,  but  as  far  as  swine  are  concerned,  it  is  not  my  own 
experience. 

Differences  of  opinion  exist  as  to  the  precise  age  of  boar  and 
sow,  at  which  breeding  is  most  advisa  ble.  They  will,  if  permitted, 
breed  at  the  early  age  of  six  or  seven  months  ; but  this  is  a prac- 
tice not  to  be  recommended.  My  advice  is,  to  let  the  sow  be,  at 
least,  one  year  old,  and  the  boar,  at  - least , eighteen  months  ; but, 


BREEDING,  REARING  AND  FEEDING. 


85 


if  the  former  have  attained  her  second  year,  and  the  latter  his 
third,  a vigorous  and  numerous  offspring  are  more  likely  to  result 
The  boar  and  sow  retain  their  ability  to  breed  for  about  five  years, 
that  is,  until  the  former  is  upwards  of  eight  years  old,  and  the 
latter  seven.  I do  not  recommend  using  a boar  after  he  has  passed 
his  fifth  year,  nor  a sow  after  she  has  passed  her  fourth,  unless  she 
have  prove  proved  a peculiarly  valuable  breeder ; in  which  case, 
she  might  be  suffered  to  produce  two  or  three  more  litters.  When 
you  are  done  with  the  services  of  the  boar,  have  him  emasculated 
— an  operation  that  can  be  performed  with  perfect  safety  at  any 
age, — fatten  or  sell  him.  When  it  is  no  longer  desirable  to  breed 
from  the  sow,  kill  her.  Before  doing  so,  it  is  a good  plan  to  put 
her  to  the  boar,  as  she  takes  fat  afterwards  more  rapidly  than  she 
otherwise  would. 

If  a sow  be  of  a stock  characterized  by  an  unusual  tendency  to 
take  fat,  it  is  well  to  breed  from  her  at  an  unusually  early  age, — 
say  eight  or  nine  months ; for  this  tendency  to  fat,  in  a breeding 
sow,  is  highly  objectionable,  as  conducing  to  danger  in  parturition. 
Let  her  have  the  boar  a couple  of  days  after  pigging,  and  let  her 
breed  as  frequently  as  she  is  capable  of  doing.  This  will  effectually 
check  the  tendency  to  fat ; and,  after  having  taken  a few  litters 
from  her,  you  will  find  the  rapidity  with  which,  should  you  desire 
her  for  the  butcher,  she  will  take  flesh,  quite  extraordinary.  In 
the  case  of  such  a sow,  do  not  give  the  boar  before  putting  her  up 
to  fatten. 

Feed  the  breeding  boar  well ; keep  him  in  high  condition,  but 
not  fat : the  sow,  on  the  other  hand,  should  be  kept  somewhat 
low,  until  after  conception,  when  the  quantity  and  quality  of  her 
food  should  be  gradually  increased.  The  best  times  for  breeding 
swine  are,  the  months  of  March,  and  July  or  August.  A litter 
obtained  later  than  August  has  much  to  contend  with,  and  seldom 
proves  profitable ; some,  indeed,  state  that  when  such  an  occur- 
rence does  take  place,  whether  from  accident  or  neglect,  the  litter 
is  not  worth  keeping.  It  is  little  use,  however,  to  throw  any  thing 
away.  Should  the  reader  at  any  time  have  a late  litter,  let  him 
leave  them  with  the  sow  ; feed  both  her  and  them  with  warm  and 
stimulating  food,  and  he  will  thus  have  excellent  pork,  with  which 
to  meet  the  market,  when  that  article  is  at  once  scarce  and  dear, 
and  consequently  profitable.  By  following  this  system  of  manage- 
ment, he  will  not  only  turn  his  late  fitter  to  account,  but  actually 


36 


HOGS. 


realize  almost  as  good  a profit  as  if  it  had  been  produced  at  a more 
favorable  season. 

The  period  of  gestation  in  the  sow  varies  ; the  most  u&ual  period 
during  which  she  carries  her  young,  is  four  lunar  months,  or  six- 
teen weeks,  or  about  one  hundred  and  thirteen  days.  M.  Teissier, 
of  Paris,  a gentleman  who  paid  much  attention  to  this  subject,  in 
connexion  not  merely  with  swine,  but  other  animals,  states  that  it 
varies  from  one  hundred  and  nine  to  one  hundred  and  forty-three 
days ; he  formed  his  calculation  from  the  attentive  observation  of 
twenty-five  sows. 

The  sow  produces  from  eight  to  thirteen  young  ones  at  a litter, 
sometimes  even  more.  Extraordinary  fecundity,  is,  however,  not 
desirable,  for  a sow  cannot  give  nourishment  to  more  young  than 
she  has  teats  for,  and,  as  the  number  of  teats  is  twelve,  when  a 
thirteenth  one  is  littered,  he  does  not  fare  very  well.  The  sufferer 
on  these  occasions  is  of  course  the  smallest  and  weakest ; a too 
numerous  litter  are  all  indeed  generally  undersized  and  weakly, 
and  seldom  or  never  prove  profitable  ; a litter  not  exceeding  ten 
will,  usually,  be  found  to  turn  out  most  advantageously.  On  ac- 
count of  the  discrepancy  subsisting  between  the  number  farrowed 
by  different  sows,  it  is  a good  plan,  if  it  can  be  managed,  to  have 
more  than  one  breeding  at  the  same  time,  in  order  that  you  may 
equalize  the  number  to  be  suckled  by  each.  The  sow  seldom 
recognizes  the  presence  of  a strange  little  one,  if  it  have  been  in- 
troduced among  the  others  during  her  absence,  and  have  lain  for' 
half  an  hour  or  so  amongst  her  own  offspring  in  their  sty. 

While  the  sow  is  carrying  her  young,  feed  her  abundantly,  and 
increase  the  quantity  until  parturition  approaches  within  a week 
or  so,  when  it  is  as  well  to  diminish  both  the  quantity  and 
quality.  While  she  is  giving  suck  you  cannot  feed  too  well.  You 
may  wean  the  young  at  eight  weeks  old,  and  should  remove  them 
for  that  purpose  from  the  sow  ; feed  them  well,  frequently,  abun- 
dantly, but  not  to  leaving , and  on  moist,  nutritious  food,  and  pay 
particular  attention  to  their  lodgment — a warm,  dry,  comfortable 
bed  is  of  fully  as  much  consequence  as  feeding,  if  not  even  of 
more.  Should  the  sow  exhibit  any  tendency  to  devour  her 
young,  or  should  she  have  done  so  on  a former  occasion,  strap  up 
her  mouth  for  the  first  three  or  four  days,  only  releasing  it  to  ad- 
mit of  her  taking  her  meals.  Some  sows  are  apt  to  lie  upon,  and 
crush  their  young.  This  may  be  best  avoided  by  not  keeping  the 
sow  too  fat  or  heavy,  and  by  not  leaving  too  many  young  upon 


BREEDING,  REARING  AND  FEEDING. 


3/ 


her.  Let  the  straw  forming  tlie  bed  also  be  short,  and  not  in  too 
great  quantity,  lest  the  pigs  get  huddled  up  under  it,  and  the  sow 
unconsciously  over-lie  them  in  that  condition. 

The  young  pigs  should  be  gradually  fed  before  permanently 
weaning  them  ; and  for  first  food,  nothing  is  so  good  as  milk, 
which  may  be  succeeded  by  ordinary  dairy  wash,  thickened  with 
oat  or  barley  meal,  or  fine  pollard  ; this  is  better  scalded,  or,  better 
still,  boiled.  To  the  sow,  some  dry  food  should  be  given  once 
daily,  which  might  consist  of  peas,  beans,  Swedish  turnips,  car- 
rots, parsnips,  or  the  like,  either  well  boiled,  or  raw  ; but  I prefer 
ihe  food  to  be  always  boiled,  or,  what  is  still  better*  steamed  Some 
wean  the  pigs  within  a few  hours  after  birth,  and  turn  the  sow  at 
once  to  the  boar.  Under  certain  circumstances,  this  may  be 
found  advantageous  ; but  I think  that  the  best  mode  of  manage- 
ment is  to  turn  the  boar  into  the  hog-yard,  about  a week  after 
parturition,  at  which  time  it  is  proper  to  remove  the  sows  for  a 
few  hours  daily  from  their  young,  and  let  them  accept  his  over- 
tures when  they  please.  It  does  not  injure  either  the  sow  or  her 
young  if  she  take  the  boar  while  suckling,  but  some  sows  will  not 
do  so  until  the  drying  of  their  milk. 

Castration  and  Spaying  should  be  only  performed  on  such 
as  you  intend  to  keep,  as  you  do  not  know  what  a purchaser’s 
wishes  on  the  subject  might  be.  It  is,  of  course,  unnecessary  for 
me  to  give  any  directions  as  to  the  mode  of  performing  this  ope- 
ration, as  no  amateur  should  attempt  it,  and  men  who  make  the 
practice  their  means  of  livelihood,  are,  in  every  district,  not  diffi- 
cult to  be  got  at,  or  exorbitant  in  their  terms.  The  sow  is,  if  de- 
sirable, to  be  spayed  while  suckling  ; the  boar,  as  I have  already 
stated,  may  be  castrated  at  any  age  with  perfect  safety. 

At  weaning  time,  Ring  the  young  pigs.  This  operation  must 
be  a painful  one,  but  scarcely  so  much  so  as  the  little  sufferers 
would  seem  to  indicate.  Ringing  is,  however,  absolutely  neces- 
sary, unless  the  cartilage  of  the  nose  be  cut  away , a practice  re- 
sorted to  in  substitution  for  it  in  some  parts  of  England  ; the  lat- 
ter practice  is,  however,  far  more  cruel  than  ringing,  and  its 
efficacy  is  by  many  stated  to  be  at  the  best  questionable. 

After  about  five  weeks’  high  and  careful  feeding  subsequent  to 
weaning,  the  young  pigs  may  be  put  up  for  stores,  porkers,  &c., 
according  to  your  views  respecting  them.  Very  young  pigs,  im- 
mediately after  being  weaned,  if  fed  on  the  refuse  of  a dairy,  will 
be  brought  up  for  delicious  pork  in  five  or  six  weeks ; for  the  last 


S8 


HOGS. 


week,  prior  to  killing,  the  addition  of  grains  or  bruised  corn  will 
impart  a degree  of  firmness  to  the  flesh,  that  is  considered  an  im- 
provement. This  is  called  “ dairy-fed  pork,”  and  it  never  fails  to 
fetch  an  enhanced  price,  thereby  amply  remunerating  its  producer. 

Hogs  designed  for  pork  should  not  be  fattened  to  the  same 
extent  as  those  designed  for  bacon.  I am  aware  that  it  will  be 
vain  for  me  to  request  the  reader  not  to  do  so,  as  fat  produces 
weight — weight,  profit — and  profit  is  the  object  of  the  feeder.  But 
to  those  who  feed  for  domestic  consumption,  I urge  the  sugges- 
tion, and  they  will  find  their  account  in  following  it.  Porkers 
should  be  suffered  to  run  at  large.  Grazing,  or  the  run  of  a wood 
in  which  roots  or  nuts  may  be  met  with,  is  calculated  in  an  emi- 
nent degree  to  improve  the  quality  of  their  flesh.  It  will  be  ne- 
cessary to  give  the  hogs  regular  meals,  independent  of  what  they 
can  thus  cater  for  themselves  ; and  the  hours  for  so  doing  should 
be  in  the  morning,  before  they  are  let  out,  and  in  the  evening, 
before  they  are  returned  to  their  sty.  Too  many  swine  should  net 
be  kept  in  one  sty ; and  if  one  become  an  object  of  persecution 
to  the  rest,  he  should  be  withdrawn.  The  introduction  of  strangers 
should  likewise  be  avoided. 

Bacon  hogs  fatten  best  by  themselves ; they  need  no  liberty  ; 
and  it  is  only  necessary  to  keep  the  sty  dry  and  clean,  and  to  feed 
abundantly,  in  order  to  prepare  them  for  the  knife.  In  order  to 
fatten  a hog,  his  comforts  must  in  every  respect  be  attended  to. 

Those  who  make  pork-feeding  a business,  and  consequently  keep 
a number  of  these  animals,  should  so  manage  as  to  be  enabled  to 
provide  for  their  maintenance  and  fattening  from  the  produce  of 
their  crops.  They  should  therefore  raise  the  potato,  beans,  peas, 
barley,  buckwheat,  flax,  parsnips,  carrots,  cabbage,  lettuce,  Lu- 
cerne, Italian  rye-grass,  clover,  rape,  chicory,  and  vetches.  Nor 
are  we  to  forget  the  important  articles,  mangold  and  Swedish  tur- 
nips ; the  latter  especially,  as  being  an  article  that  sad  necessity 
has  recently,  for  the  first  time,  brought  into  the  full  degree  of  no- 
tice it  has  always  deserved ; — and  an  article  that  is  now  found  to 
be  no  less  valuable  for  human  food  than  it  is  admitted  to  be  for 
the  food  of  cattle. 

The  best  possible  mode  of  feeding  hogs  is  with  a n ixture  of  two 
or  more  of  the  roots  or  plants  enumerated,  well  stean  ed,  and  a lit- 
tle meal  or  bran  added,  or,  instead  of  meal  or  bran,  add  brewer’s 
grains,  wash,  half  malted  barley,  pollard,  &c., — let  these  be  well- 
boiled  and  given  moderately  cool,  and  in  a moist  state. 


BREEDING,  REARING  AND  FEEDING.  39 

The  advantages  derivable  from  the  use  of  hay-tea  in  ntorefeed- 
ing  hogs  was,  I think,  for  the  first  time  demonstrated  to  the  pub- 
lic, some  years  ago,  by  Mr.  Saunders,  of  Stroud,  in  Gloucester- 
shire. Mr.  Saunders  was  induced  to  try  this  diet  with  hogs,  from 
an  observation  of  its  efficacy  in  weaning  calves ; his  experiments 
were  attended  with  the  most  unqualified  success. 

The  use  of  flax-seed,  as  an  addition  to  the  other  food  for  fatten- 
ing swine,  has  been  recommended,  but  is  found  not  to  answer 
nearly  so  well  in  the  crude  state  as  previously  kiln-dried,  and  well 
crushed,  so  as  to  crack  the  seed,  otherwise  the  animal  will  pass  a 
large  proportion  of  the  seed  in  a whole  state ; the  whole  seed  acts 
as  a purgative  and  diuretic,  which  will  be  opposed  to  the  secretion 
of  fat.  To  prepare  the  seed  for  food,  steep  them  for  twelve  hours 
in  water,  which  may  be  poured  on  them  in  a tepid  state,  but  not 
at  boilings  heat ; and,  prior  to  giving  the  mess,  add  as  much  luke- 
warm wash  as  will  bring  it  to  the  consistence  of  gruel.  This  wash 
may  be  produced  from  brewer’s  grains,  or  simply  from  mangold 
or  Swedish  turnips,  well  boiled  and  mashed,  and  given  with  the 
water  in  which  they  have  been  boiled : the  addition  of  a propor- 
tion of  bran  improves  the  mess,  and  when  one  has  it,  it  should 
not  be  omitted. 

The  adoption  of  hay-tea  as  the  vehicle  for  mixing  these  ingre- 
dients, will  be  found  also  advantageous.  Do  not  boil  the  flax  seed 
— boiling  will  produce  a coarse,  tough  and  not  very  digestible 
mass ; but  steeping,  on  the  contrary,  furnishes  a rich  and  nutri- 
tious jelly.  Linseed  cake  is  a good  substitute  for  the  seed,  and  is 
to  be  given  in  a proportion  of  fourteen  pounds,  for  seventeen  or 
eighteen  pounds  of  ground  seed.  Neither  should  be  given,  ex- 
cept in  combination  with  a large  proportion  of  other  substances, 
as  they  are  of  a very  greasy  nature,  and  are  apt  to  impart  a rank 
flavor  to  flesh,  if  given  in  an  unmixed  state,  and  are  actually  more 
efficacious  in  combination.  If  you  have  plenty  of  meal,  the  ad- 
dition of  a little  to  the  daily  feeds,  will  be  found  to  tell  well,  espe- 
cially towards  the  close  of  fattening,  a few  weeks  previous  to 
transferring  your  stock  to  the  butcher. 

The  refuse  of  mills  form  a very  valuable  item  in  swine  food, 
when  mixed  with  such  boiled  roots  as  I have  enumerated  ; — as 
starch  sounds,  the  refuse  from  the  manufacture  of  that  article  ; also 
the  fibrous  refuse  remaining  from  the  manufacture  of  potato  starch. 

Swine  are  frequently  kept  by  butchers,  and  are  then  fed  princi- 
pally upon  the  garlage  of  the  shambles, — as  entrails,  the  paunch 


40 


HOGS. 


es,  lights,  and  the  viscera  of  sheep  and  cattle,  as  well  as  the  blooq. 
Swine  are,  like  their  human  owners,  omnivorous,  and  few  articles 
come  amiss  to  them.  It  must,  nevertheless,  be  confessed,  that  the 
flesh  of  hogs  fed  on  animal  food  is  rank  both  in  smell  and  taste, 
and  readily  distinguishable  from  that  produced  from  a vegetable 
diet.  I am  not  unnecessarily  prejudiced,  and  it  is  on  the  merits  of 
the  case  alone  that  I condemn  butcher-fed  pork.  Pork  butchers, 
resident  in  large  towns,  are  very  apt  to  feed  chiefly  on  offal  of  all 
sorts,  including  that  arising  from  the  hogs  daily  slain  and  dressed 
for  the  market. 

There  is  yet  another  description  of  feeding : I allude  to  the 
feeding  of  swine  in  knackers’  yards.  The  animals  are  kept  in  con- 
siderable numbers,  and  are  fed  wholly  upon  the  refuse  of  dead 
horses — chiefly  the  entrails,  the  carcass  being  in  too  great  demand 
among  those  who  keep  dogs,  to  permit  of  it  being  unnecessarily 
wasted.  Nor  are  these  horses  always  fresh , the  swine  revelling  in 
corruption , and  disputing  with  the  maggot  the  possession  of  a mass 
of  liquid  putrefaction.  And  are  we  to  say  nothing  of  the  number 
of  horses  who  die  of  glanders,  farcy,  or  some  similarly  frightfully 
contagious  and  incurable  disorder  ? How  can  we  be  certain  that 
this  is  not  one  of  the  many  sources  whence  occasionally  spring  ap- 
parently causeless  pestilences,  or  malignant  epidemics?  While 
such  a practice  is  tolerated,  with  what  caution  should  we  not  pur- 
chase bacon  or  pork,  lest  we  should  thus  eat  at  second-hand  of  sub- 
stances so  revolting  to  the  feelings,  so  dangerous  to  individual  and 
public  health. 

Chandler’s  Greaves  are  likewise  objectionable  as  food  for 
swine,  unless  given  in  comparatively  small  quantities,  and  mixed 
with  bran,  meal,  and  boiled  roots.  If  fed  wholly  on  either  greaves, 
or  oil-cake,  or  flax-seed,  the  flesh  becomes  loose,  unsubstantial,  and 
carriony ; and  gives  out  a flavor  resembling  that  of  rancid  oil. 

Hogs  that  have  been  fed  chiefly  on  corn,  alternated  with  the  ve- 
getable diet  already  described,  produce  pork  nearly  equal  in  deli- 
cacy of  flavor,  whiteness  of  color,  and  consequent  value,  to  that 
well-known,  delicious  article,  dairy  pork.  Indian  Corn  is  most 
useful  in  feeding  and  in  fattening  pigs ; it  should  be  employed  in 
conjunction  with  oat  or  barley  meal,  or  some  other  equally  nutri- 
tious matter. 

Respecting  the  quality  of  food,  vast  numbers  of  bacon  hogs  are 
almost  invariably  fed  upon  potatoes;  but  however  apparently  sat- 
isfactory may  be  their  weight  and  condition,  yet  when  slaughtered 


BREEDING,  REARING  AND  FEEIING. 


41 


immediately,  or  before  having  several  weeks  of  substantial  food,  to 
harden  their  flesh,  they  are  always  "found  inferior  to  corn-fed.  pork 
and  bacon,  the  fat  having  a tallowy  appearance,  of  an  insipid  taste, 
and  shrinking  for  want  of  firmness ; whereas,  when  boiled,  it 
should  be  transparently  hard,  with  a tinge  of  pink  in  its  color,  the 
flavor  should  be  good,  and  the  meat  should  swell  in  the  pot.  Po- 
tatoes, therefore,  though  fine  food  for  stores,  should  never  be  used 
alone  as  sustenance  in  the  flitting  of  bacon  hogs  ; for,  in  proportion 
to  the  quantity  employed,  it  will  render  the  flesh,  and  consequent- 
ly the  price,  inferior  to  that  of  hogs  which  have  been  properly  fed. 
They  are,  however,  frequently  employed,  "when  steamed,  in  con- 
junction with  either  tail,  or  stained  barley,  coarsely  ground ; and 
farmers  who  grow  potatoes  for  the  market  may  thus  profitably  dis- 
pose of  the  chats  along  with  their  unmarketable  corn  : but  those 
persons  who  wish  to  acquire  a reputation  for  producing  fine  ba- 
con, should  never  use  anything  for  fatting  but  hard  meat,  together 
with  skim-milk,  if  it  can  be  procured. 

When  swine  are  not  of  very  large  size,  and  it  is  desirable  to 
raise  pork  rather  than  bacon,  a very  economical  mode  of  feeding 
may  be  advantageously  employed  : — it  consists  of  equal  parts  of 
boiled  Swedish  turnips  and  bran.  If  it  be  desirable  to  render  the 
accumulation  of  fat  more  rapid,  let  Indian  meal  be  substituted  for 
the  bran,  and,  in  flax-growing  countries,  the  seed  prepared  as  al- 
ready directed. 

A hog  WASHED  WEEKLY  WITH  SOAP  AND  A BRUSH  will  be  found 
to  thrive,  and  put  up  flesh  in  a ratio  of  at  least  five  to  three,  in 
comparison  to  a pig  not  so  treated.  This  fact  has  been  well  tried, 
there  can  be  no  possible  question  about  its  correctness,  and  the 
duty  is  not  a very  difficult  matter  to  perform,  for  the  swine,  as 
soon  as  they  discover  the  real  character  of  the  operation,  are  far 
from  being  disposed  to  object,  and  after  a couple  of  washings, 
submit  with  the  best  grace  imaginable. 

Beware  not  to  Surfeit  your  hogs.  It  is  quite  possible  to  give 
too  much  even  to  them;  and  to  produce  disease  by  over-feeding. 

Many  examples  of  great  weights,  produced  by  judicious  feeding 
and  management,  are  upon  record.  Mr.  Crockford’s  Suffolk  hog. 
at  two  years  old,  weighed  980  lbs. ; but  I scarcely  think  it  could 
have  been  true  Suffolk , that  being  a small  breed.  Mr.  Ivory’s 
Shropshire  hog  weighed  fourteen  hundred,  when  killed  and  dressed , 
and  there  was,  a short  time  since,  a specimen  of  the  improved  Irish 
brwd  of  hog  exhibited  in  Dublin,  at  the  Portobello  Gardens,  which 
C 


42 


HOGS. 


weighed  upwards  of  twelve  hundred  weight;  this,  when  killed, 
would  have  amounted  to  soniething  over  half  a ton. 

In  conclusion,  observe  caution  in  conjunction  with  the  directions 
already  given  relative  to  feeding. 

I.  Avoid  foul  feeding. 

II.  Do  not  omit  adding  salt  in  moderate  quantities  to  the 
mess  given : you  will  find  your  account  in  attending  to  this. 

III.  Feed  at  regular  intervals. 

IV.  Cleanse  the  troughs  previous  to  feeding. 

V.  Do  not  over-feed  ; give  only  as  much  as  will  be  consumed 
at  the  meal. 

VI.  Vary  your  bill  of  fare.  Variety  will  create,  or,  at  all 
events,  increase  appetite,  and  it  is  further  most  conducive  to  health ; 
let  your  vaiiations  be  guided  by  the  state  of  the  dung  cast : this 
should  be  of  medium  consistence,  and  of  a greyish-brown  color ; 
if  hard , increase  the  quantity  of  bran  and  succulent  roots ; if  too 
liquid,  diminish,  or  dispense  with  bran,  and  let  the  mess  be  firm- 
er; if  you.  can,  add  a portion  of  corn,  that  which  is  injured,  and 
thus  rendered  unfit  for  other  purposes,  will  be  found  to  answer 
well. 

VII.  Feed  your  stock  separately,  in  classes,  according  to 
their  relative  conditions ; keep  sows  in  young  by  themselves ; 
stores  by  themselves ; and  bacon  hogs  and  porkers  by  themselves. 
It  is  not  advisable  to  keep  your  stores  too  high  in  flesh,  for  high 
feeding  is  calculated  , to  retard  development  of  form  and  bulk.  It 
is  better  to  feed  pigs  intended  to  be  put  up  for  bacon,  loosely , and 
not  too  abundantly,  until  they  have  attained  their  full  stature ; 
you  can  then  bring  them  into  the  highest  possible  condition  in  an 
inconceivably  short  space  of  time. 

VIII.  Do  NOT  REGRET  T&E  LOSS  OR  SCARCITY  OF  POTATOES  SO 
far  as  swine-feeding  is  concerned.  Its  loss  has  been  the  means  of 
stimulating  inquiry  and  producing  experiment,  which  has  resulted 
in  the  discovery  that  many  other  superior  vegetables  have  been  hi- 
therto neglected  and  foolishly  passed  aside. 

IX.  Do  NOT  NEGLECT  TO  KEEP  YOUR  SWINE  CLEAN,  DRY,  AND 

warm.  These  are  essentials , and  not  a whit  less  imperative  than 
feeding,  for  an  inferior  description  of  food  will,  by  their  aid,  suc- 
ceed far  better  than  the  highest  feeding  will  without  them  ; and 
suffer  me  to  reiterate  the  benefit  derivable  from  washing  your  hogs  ; 
this  will  repay  your  trouble  manyfold. 

X.  Watch  the  markets. — Sell  when  you  see  a reasonable 


TIME  REQUISITE  FOR  FEEDING  FAT,  ETC. 


43 


profit  before  you.  Many  and  many  a man  lias  swamped  himself 
by  giving  way  to  covetousness,  and  by  desiring  to  realize  an  un- 
usual amount  of  gain  : recollect  how  very  fluctuating  arc  the  mar- 
kets, and  that  a certain  gain  is  far  better  than  the  risk  of  loss. 


CHAPTER  VHI. 

TIME  REQUISITE  FOR  FEEDING  FAT QUANTITY  OF  FOOD AND 

PROPORTIONATE  INCREASE  OF  WEIGHT  IN  A GIVEN  TIME. 

This  will,  of  course,  vary  very  considerably,  according  to  the 
weight,  age,  breed,  and  condition  of  the  store  when  first  put  up,  as 
well  as  the  description  of  food'  on  which,  up  to  that  period,  the 
animal  has  been  fed.  The  same  observations  are  applicable  to  the 
quantity  of  food  required  for  the  production  of  fat. 

If  a young  store,  five  or  six  weeks  may  be  sufficient ; if  older, 
six  or  eight ; and  if  of  the  mature  age,  intended  for  a perfect 
bacon  hog,  of  that  moderate  degree  of  size  and  fatness  which  is 
preferred  for  the  general  consumption  of  the  middle  classes,  from 
twelve  to  fourteen.  A bacon  hog,  if  intended  to  be  thoroughly 
fattened  for  farm  use,  should,  however,  be  of  a large  breed,  and 
brought  to  such  a state  as  not  to  be  able  to  rise  without  difficulty, 
and  will,  perhaps,  require  five  or  six  months,  or  even  more,  to 
bring  him  to  that  condition.  This,  however,  supposes  him  to  be 
completely  fat ; to  ascertain  which  with  perfect  accuracy,  he  ought 
to  be  weighed  every  week  during  the  latter  part  of  the  process ; 
for  although  his  appetite  will  gradually  fall  off  as  he  increases  in 
fat,  yet  the  flesh  which  he  will  acquire  will  also  diminish,  until  at 
last  it  will  not  -pay  for  his  food,  and  he  should  then  be  immediately 
slaughtered.  Thus  the  increase  of  flesh  in  a hog  put  up  to  be  fat- 
tened, and  regularly  weighed,  was,  on  the  following  dates  : — 


Oct.  10 

stone. 

36 

lbs. 

7 

24 

41 

5 

. 38  lbs.  gain. 

Nov.  7 

45 

7 

. . 34  do. 

21 

47 

2 

..  11  do. 

Dec.  5 

48 

7 

. . 13  do. 

22 

48 

6 

. . 1 lb.  loss- 

44 


HOGS. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DISEASES  OF  SWINE. 

In  order  to  prescribe,  with  any  reasonable  hopes  of  success,  for 
any  animal,  a knowledge  of  that  animal’s  anatomy,  physiology, 
and  habits  when  in  health,  are  indispensable,  and  an  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  the  characters  of  the  substances  employed  as  re- 
medies. I would  not  recommend  you  to  place  much  confidence  in 
books  published  by  quacks,  and  purporting  to  contain  infallible 
specifics  for  the  several  diseases  to  which  live  stock  are  liable. 
Veterinary  text-books,  written  by  competent  persons,  are  very  dif- 
ferent things.  A host  of  honorable  names  stand  upon  record,  od 
the  face  of  their  publications,  in  proof  of  the  correctness  of  my 
assertion.  By  diligent  study  of  these  books,  farmers  might,  I have 
little  doubt,  eventually  arrive  at  a very  respectable  share  of  veteri- 
nary knowledge ; acquire  a tolerable  idea  of  the  internal  structure 
of  the  several  inhabitants  of  the  farm-yard,  and  of  their  physiolo- 
gy ; by  practical  observation  they  would  become  able  to  detect  the 
presence  of  disease  from  the  symptoms  present,  and  be  then  able 
to  adopt  a course  of  treatment  as  might  be  suggested  in  the  books 
they  possessed.  Under  these  circumstances,  apply,  if  possible,  to 
a regular  veterinary  surgeon. 

Swine  are  by  no  means  the  most  tractable  of  patients.  It  is 
anything  but  an  easy  matter  to  compel  them  to  swallow'  anything 
to  which  their  appetite  does  not  incite  them,  and  hence,  ‘ pre- 
vention’ will  be  found  ‘ better  than  cure.’  Cleanliness  is, 
in  my  opinion,  the  great  point  to  be  insisted  upon  in  swine  man- 
agement ; if  this,  and  warmth,  be  duly  attended  to,  the  animal 
will  not,  save  in  one  case,  perhaps  in  a hundred,  become  affected 
with  any  ailment. 

As,  however,  even  under  the  most  careful  system  of  manage- 
ment, an  occasional  disappointment  may  occur,  the  reader  is  fur- 
nished with  the  following  brief  view  of  the  principal  complaints, 
by  w'hich  some  are,  under  the  most  unfavorable  circumstances , liable 
to  be  attacked,  and  the  plainest  effectual  mode  of  sanatory  treat- 
ment, in  such  cases,  to  be  adopted. 

The  principal  diseases  to  which  swine  are  liable  are  : — 1,  Fever; 
2,  Leprosy ; 3,  Murrain ; 4,  Measles  ; 5,  Jaundice  ; 6,  Foul  skin  ; 

Mange  ; 8,  Staggers ; 9,  Cracklings  ; 10,  “ Rati  lie,’’  or  swelling 


DISEASES  OF  SWINE. 


45 


of  the  spleen;  11,  Indigestion,  or  Surfeit;  12,  Lethargy;  13, 
Heav.ngs ; 14,  “Diarrhoea;”  15,  Quinsy;  16,  Tumors  ; 17, 
Catarrh. 

All  which  dangerous,  and  often  fatal,  maladies  may  be  pre- 
vented from  occurring  by  the  simple  attention  to  cleanliness  al- 
ready recommended,  with  judicious  feeding.  A hog  can  be  reliev- 
ed by  bleeding,  when  such  an  operation  will  effect  relief,  whether 
he  like  to  submit  or  nc^  ; but  it  is  very  questionable  whether  he 
can  be  compelled  to  swallow  medicines  without  his  perfect  consent 
and  concurrence;  these,  therefore,  will  best  be  administered  by 
stratagem,  and  the  hog’s  appetite  is  the  only  assailable  point  he 
has. 

I.  Fever. — The  symptoms  are,  redness  of  the  eyes,  dryness  and 
heat  of  the  nostrils,  the  lips,  and  the  skin  generally ; appetite  gone, 
or  very  defective,  and  the  presence,  usually,  of  a very  violent 
thirst.  Of  course,  no  symptom  can  be  regarded  as  individually 
indicative  of  the  presence  of  any  particular  disease  ; these,  which  I 
have  named,  might,  individually,  indicate  the  presence  of  many 
other  disorders,  nay,  of  no  disorder  at  all,  but  collectively,  they 
point  to  the  presence  of  fever  as  their  origin. 

Let  the  animal,  as  soon  as  possible  after  the  appearance  of  these 
symptoms,  be  bled,  by  cutting  the  veins  at  the  back  of  his  ears. 
The  pressure  of  the  finger  raises  the  vein,  and  you  can  then  punc- 
ture it  with  a lancet.  If  the  bleeding  from  this  channel  be  not 
sufficiently  copious,  you  must  cut  off  a portion  of  his  tail ; and 
after  bleeding  let  him  be  warmly  housed,  but,  at  the  same  time, 
while  protected  from  cold  and  draughts,  let  the  sty  be  well  and 
thoroughly  ventilated,  and  its  inmate  supplied  with  a constant  suc- 
cession of  fresh  air.  The  bleeding  will  usually  be  followed,  in  an 
hour  or  two,  by  such  a return  of  appetite  as  to  induce  the  animal 
to  eat  a sufficient  quantity  of  food  to  admit  of  your  making  it  the 
vehicle  for  administering  such  internal  remedies  as  may  seem  ad- 
visable. The  best  vehicle  is  bread,  steeped  in  broth.  The  hog, 
however,  sinks  so  rapidly,  when  once  he  loses  his  appetite,  that  no 
depletive  medicines  are  in  general  necessary  or  suitable ; the  fever 
will  usually  be  found  to  yield  to  the  bleeding,  and  your  only  ob- 
ject need  be  the  support  of  the  animal’s  strength,  by  small  portions 
of  nourishing  food,  administered  frequently. 

Do  not,  however,  at  any  time  suffer  your  patient  to  eat  as  much 
as  bis  inclination  might  prompt ; the  moment  he  appears  to  be  no 
longer  ravenous,  remove  the  mess,  and  do  not  offer  it  again  until 


46 


HOGS. 


after  a lapse  of  from  three  to  four  hours.  It  is  a singular  fact,  that 
as  the  hog  surpasses  every  other  animal  in  the  facility  with  which 
he  acquires  fat,  he  likewise  surpasses  all  others  in  the  rapidity  with 
which  his  strength  becomes  prostrated  when  once  his  appetite  de- 
serts him.  The  French  veterinarian  practice  recommends  the  ad- 
dition of  peppermint  to  the  bread  and  broth.  If  the  animal  be 
not  disgusted  by  the  smell,  it  may  be  added  ; and  if  the  bowels 
be  confined,  the  addition  of  castor  and  linseed  oil,  in  equal  quanti- 
ties, and  in  the  proportion  of  two  to  six  ounces,  according  to  the 
size  of  the  hog,  should  not  be  omitted. 

If  you  find  yourself  unable  to  restore  the  animal’s  appetite,  the 
case  is  nearly  hopeless,  and  you  may  regard  its  return  as  one  of 
the  most  infallible  symptoms  of  returning  convalescence.  It  is, 
however,  possible  to  administer  medicine  to  the  pig  by  force  ; al- 
though, for  my  own  part,  I cannot  say  that  I have  ever  found  it 
practicable. 

There  is  a description  of  fever  that  frequently  occurs  as  an 
epizootic.  It  often  attacks  the  male  pigs,  and  generally  the  most 
vigorous  and  the  best-looking,  without  any  distinction  of  age,  and 
with  a force  and  promptitude  absolutely  astonishing ; for  in  the 
space  of  twelve  hours,  I have  sometimes  seen  a whole  piggery  suc- 
cumb : at  other  times  its  progress  is  much  slower ; the  symptoms 
are  less  intense  and  less  alarming ; and  the  veterinary  surgeon, 
employed  at  the  commencement  of  the  attack,  may  promise  him- 
self some  success. 

The  Causes  of  the  Disease  are,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  the 
bad  sties  in  which  the  pigs  are  lodged,  and  the  noisome  food  which 
they  often  contain.  The  food  which  the  pigs  meet  with  and  devour 
are  the  remains  of  mouldy  bread  and  fruit,  especially  those  of  peas 
and  lentils — the  fermentation  and  decomposition  of  which  farina- 
ceous substances,  and  especially  the  bran  which  is  too  frequently 
given  to  them,  and  the  prolonged  action  of  which  determine  the 
most  serious  in  the  whole  economy.  In  addition  to  this,  is  the 
constant  lying  on  the  dung  heap,  whence  is  exhaled  a vast  quantity 
of  deleterious  gas ; also,  where  they  remain  far  too  long,  on  the 
muddy  or  arid  ground,  or  are  too  long  exposed  to  the  rigor  of  the 
season. 

As  soon  as  a pig  is  attacked  with  disease,  he  should  be  sepa- 
rated from  the  others,  placed  in  a warm  situation,  some  stimulat- 
ing ointment  be  applied  to  the  chest,  and  a decoction  of  sorrel 
administered.  Frictions  of  vinegar  should  be  applied  to  die  dorsal 


DISEASES  OF  SWINE. 


47 


and  lumbar  region.  The  drinks  should  be  emollient,  slightly  imbued 
with  nitre  and  vinegar,  and  with  aromatic  fumigation  about  the 
belly.  If  the  fever  now  appears  to  be  losing  ground,  which  may 
be  ascertained  by  the  regularity  of  the  pulse,  by  the  absence  of 
the  plaintive  cries  that  were  before  heard,  by  a respiration  less 
laborious,  by  the  absence  of  convulsions,  and  by  the  non-appear- 
ance of  blotches  on  the  skin,  there  is  a fair  chance  of  recovery. 
We  may  then  be  content  to  administer,  every  second  hour,  the 
drinks  and  the  lavements  already  prescribed,  and  to  give  the  patient 
his  proper  allowance  of  white  water,  with  ground  barley  and  rye. 
When,  however,  instead  of  these  fortunate  results,  the  symptoms 
are  redoubling  in  intensity,  it  will  be  best  to  destroy  the  animal ; 
for  it  is  rare  that,  after  a certain  period,  there  is  much  or  any 
chance  of  recovery.  Bleeding,  practised  at  the  ear  or  tail,  is  seldom 
of  much  avail,  but  occasionally  produces  considerable  loss  of  vital 
power,  and  augments  the  putrid  diathesis. 

II.  Leprosy. — The  symptoms  of  this  complaint  usually  com- 

mence with  the  formation  of  a small  tumor  in  the  eye,  followed  by 
genera]  prostration  of  spirits  ; the  head  is  held  down  ; the  whole 
frame  inclines  towards  the  ground : universal  languor  succeeds ; 
the  animal  refuses  food,  languishes,  and  rapidly  falls  away  in  flesh ; 
blisters  soon  make  their  appearance  beneath  the  tongue,  then  upon 
the  throat,  the  jaws,  the  head,  and  the  entire  body.  The  flesh  of 
a leprous  pig  is  said  to  possess  most  pernicious  qualities,  and  to  be 
wholly  unfit  for  human  food.  If  the  animal  be  killed  in  the  very 
first  stage  of  the  disease,  however,  the  affection  is  only  superficial, 
the  flesh  nothing  the  worse,  but  rather  improved  in  tenderness, 
and  indeed,  not  to  be  distinguished  from  that  of  a perfectly  sound 
animal.  The  cause  of  this  disease  is  want  of  cleanliness,  absence 
of  fresh  air,  want  of  due  attention  to  ventilation,  and  foul  feeding. 
The  obvious  cure  therefore  is — first,  bleed ; clean  out  the  sty  daily ; 
wash  the  affected  animal  thoroughly  with  soap  and  water,  to  which 
soda  or  potash  has  been  added ; supply  him  with  a clean  bed ; 
keep  him  dry  and  comfortable  ; let  him  have  gentle  exercise  and 
plenty  of  fresh  air ; limit  the  quantity  of  his  food,  and  diminish  its 
rankness ; give  bran  with  wash,  in  which  you  may  add,  for  an 
averaged  sized  hog,  say  one  of  160lbs.  weight,  a tablespoon  full  of 
the  flour  of  sulphur,  with  as  much  nitre  as  will  cover  a sixpence, 
daily.  A few  grains  of  powdered  antimony  may  also  be  given 
with  effect.  ^ 

III.  Murrain. — Resembles  leprosy  in  its  symptoms,  with  the 


48 


HOGS. 


addition  of  staggering,  shortness  of  breath,  discharge  of  viscid 
matter  from  the  eyes  and  mouth.  The  treatment  should  consist 
of  cleanliness,  coolness,  bleeding,  purging,  and  limitation  of  food. 
Cloves  of  garlic  have  been  recommended  to  be  administered  in 
cases  of  murrain.  Garlic  is  an  antiseptic,  and  as,  in  all  those  febrile 
diseases,  there  exists  a more  or  less  degree  of  disposition  to  putre- 
faction, it  is  not  improbable  that  it  may  be  found  useful. 

IV.  Measles. — This  is  one  of  the  most  common  diseases  to 
which  hogs  are  liable.  The  symptoms  are,  redness  of  the  eyes, 
foulness  of  the  skin,  depression  of  spirits,  decline,  or  total  departure 
of  the  appetite,  small  pustules  about  the  throat,  and  red  and  purple 
eruptions  on  the  skin.  These  last  are  more  plainly  visible  after 
death,  when  they  impart  a peculiar  appearance  to  the  grain  of  the 
meat,  with  fading  of  its  color,  and  distension  of  the  fibre  so  as  to 
give  an  appearance  similar  to  that  which  might  be  produced  by 
puncturing  the  flesh. 

Suffer  the  animal  to  fast,  in  the  first  instance,  for  twenty-four 
hours,  and  then  administer  a warm  drink,  containing  a drachm  of 
carbonate  of  soda,  and  an  ounce  of  bole  armenian ; wash  the  animal, 
cleanse  the  sty,  and  change  the  bedding ; give  at  every  feeding, 
say  thrice  a day,  thirty  grains  of  flour  of  sulphur,  and  ten  of  nitre. 
It  is  to  dirt,  combined  with  a common  fault,  too  little  thought  of, 
viz.  giving  the  steamed  food  or  wash  to  the  hogs  at  too  high  a 
temperature,  that  this  disease  is  generally  to  be  attributed.  It  is 
a troublesome  malady  to  eradicate,  but  usually  yields  to  treatment, 
and  is  rarely  fatal. 

V.  Jaundice. — Symptoms,  yellowness  of  the  white  of  the  eye, 
a similar  hue  extending  to  the  lips,  with  sometimes,  but  not  inva- 
riably, swelling  of  the  under  part  of  the  jaw.  Bleed  behind  the 
ear,  diminish  the  quantity  of  food,  and  give  a smart  aperient  every 
second  day.  Aloes  are,  perhaps,  the  best,  combined  with  colocynth  ; 
the  dose  will  vary  with  the  size  of  the  animal. 

VI.  Foul  Skin. — A simple  irritability  or  foulness  of  skin  will 
usually  yield  to  cleanliness,  and  a washing  with  solution  of  chloride 
of  lime,  but  if  it  have  been  neglected  for  any  length  of  time,  it 
assumes  a malignant  character,  scabs  and  blotches,  or  red  and  fiery 
eruptions  appear,  and  the  disease  rapidly  passes  into 

VII.  Mange. — If  the  foul  hide,  already  described,  had  been 
properly  attended  to,  and  the  remedies  necessary  for  its  removal 
applied  in  sufficient  time,  this  very  troublesome  disorder  would  not 
have  supervened.  Mange  is  supposed,  by  most  medical  men,  to 


DISEASES  OF  SWINE. 


49 


owe  existence  to  the  presence  of  a minute  insect,  called  acar,M 
or  “ mange-fly,”  a minute  creature,  which  burrows  be- 
neath the  cuticle,  and,  in  its  progress  through  the  skin,  occasions 
much  irritation  and  annoyance.  Others,  again,  do  not  conceive 
the  affection  sty-led  mange  to  be  thus  produced,  but  refer  it  to  a 
diseased  state  of  the  blood,  which,  as  is  usually  the  case,  eventually 
conveys  its  morbid  influences  to  the  superficial  tissues.  Much  has 
been,  and  still  might  be  said  on  both  sides  of  the  question,  but 
such  a discussion  is  scarcely  suitable  to  the  pages  of  a popular 
work.  I he  Symptoms  of  the  disease  are  sufliciently  well  known 
consisting  of  scabs,  blotches,  and  sometimes  multitudes  of  minute 
pustule^  on  different  parts  of  the  body.  If  neglected,  these  symp- 
toms will  become  aggravated  ; the  disease  will  rapidly  spread  ov  r 
the  entire  surface  of  the  skin,  and  if  suffered  to  proceed  uoon  its 
course,  unchecked,  it  will  ere  long  produce  deep-seated  ulcem,  and 
malignant  sores,  until  the  whole  carcass  of  the  poor  affected  animal 
becomes  one  mass  of  corruption. 

The  Causes  of  Mange  have  been  differently  stated;  some  re- 
ferring them  to  too  high,  and  others  to  too  low  a diet  The  cause 
K to  be  looked  for  m dirt,  accompanied  by  hot-feeding  ; hot-feedino- 
alone  would  perhaps,  be  more  likely  to  produce  mjfe  than  manae 
but  Art  would  unquestionably  produce  the  latter  disease,  eZ  ff 
unaided  by  the  concomitant  error  of  liot-feeding;. 

Wdl  aad  ProPerly  kePb  will  occasionally  become 
affected  with  this,  as  well  as  with  other  disorders,  from  ^contagion. 

Ttotof  TV*  Tre  -eaS,lly  ProPagated  by  contact  than  mange. 
The  introduction  of  a single  affected  pig  into  your  establishment 
may,  in  one  night,  cause  the  seizure  of  scores,  and,  probably  fur- 
nish you  with  a three  months’  hospital  experience.  Do  nctflie^- 
tore  introduce  any  foul-skinned  pigs  into  your  piggery,  in  fact  it 
would  be  a very  safe  proceeding,  to  wash  every  new  ourchase  with 

am  TLSe  teo°h,°f  T**  VT  This 

frratl  t tr°UbIe,’  when,  apphed  as  a preventive,  is  surely  pr!-- 

whw' de  n f tb°th  tr°UW<?  and’  perhaPs’  disappointment 
wnen  you  are  compelled  to  resort  to  it  to  cure. 

and  not n?  ^ T7  ^ a manSe  of  moderate  virulence, 

adopted,  9 9'  46  beSt  mode  of  treatment  to  be 

bJ;  *be  ani“al  from  snout  to  tail,  leaving  no  portion  of  the 

body  uncleansed,  with  soft  soap  and  water. 

J llt  hlm  mt0  a drT  and  clean  sty,  which  is  so  built  and 
3 


50 


HOGS. 


situated  as  to  comman  A a constant  supply  of  fresh  dir,  without,  at 
the  same  time,  being  exposed  to  cold  or  draught ; let  him  have  a 
bed  of  clean,  fresh  straw. 

8.  Reduce  his  food,  both  in  quality  and  in  quantity ; let  boiled 
or  steamed  roots,  with  buttermilk,  or  dairy  wash,  supply  the  place 
of  half-fermented  brewer’s  grains,  house  wash,  or  any  other  de- 
scription of  feeding  calculated  to  prove  of  a heating  or  inflamma- 
tory character.  It  is,  of  course,  scarcely  necessary  to  add,  that 
those  who  have  been  feeding  their  swine  on  horseflesh , or  chandler’s 
greaves,  cannot  be  surprised  at  the  occurrence  of  the  disease ; let 
them,  at  all  events,  desist  from  that  rank  and  nasty  mode  of  feed- 
ing, and  turn  to  such  as  has  been  indicated. 

4.  Let  your  patient  fast  for  five  or  six  hours,  and  then,  give  to  a 
hog  of  average  size — epsom  salts,  2oz.  in  a warm  bran  wash.  This 
quantity  is,  of  course,  to  be  increased  or  diminished,  as  the  size  may 
require.  The  above  would  suffice  for  a hog  of  160lbs.  It  should 
be  previously  mixed  with  a pint  of  warm  Water.  This  should  be 
added  to  about  half  a gallon  of  warm  bran  wash.  It  will  act  as 
a gentle  purgative. 

5.  Give  in  every  meal  afterwards — of  flour  of  sulphur,  one 
tablespoon ; of  nitre,  as  much  as  will  cover  a sixpence,  for  from 
three  days  to  a week,  according  to  the  state  of  the  disease.  When 
you  perceive  the  scabs  begin  to  heal,  the  pustules  to  retreat,  and 
the  fiery  sores  to  fade,  you  may  pronounce  your  patient  cured. 
But  before  that  pleasing  result  will  make  its  appearance,  you  will 
perceive  an  apparent  increase  of  violence  in  all  the  symptoms — 
the  last  effort  of  the  expiring  malady,  as  it  were,  ere  it  finally 
yields  to  your  care  and  skill. 

6.  There  are,  however,  some  very  obstinate  cases  of  mange  oc- 
casionally to  be  met  with,  which  will  not  so  readily  be  subdued. 
When  the  above  mode  of  treatment  has  been  put  in  practice  for 
fourteen  days,  without  effecting  a cure,  prepare  the  following : 
Train  oil,  one  pint ; oil  of  tar,  two  drachms  ; spirits  of  turpentine, 
two  drachms ; naphtha,  one  drachm ; with  flour  of  sulphur,  as 
much  as  will  form  the  above  into  the  consistence  of  a thick  paste. 
Rub  the  animal,  previously  washed,  with  this  mixture — let  no  por- 
tion of  the  hide  escape  you.  Keep  the  hog  dry  and  warm  after 
this  application,  and  suffer  it  to  remain  on  his  skin  for  three  entire 
v*vs.  On  the  fourth  day,  wash  him  once  more  with  soft  soap, 

deling  a small  quantity  of  soda  to  the  water.  Dry  the  animal 
well  afterwards,  and  suffer  him  to  remain  as  he  is,  having  agai» 


DISEASES  OF  SWINE. 


51 


changed  his  bedding,  for  a day  or  so : continue  the  sulphur  and 
nitre  as  before.  I have  never  known  any  case  of  mange,  however 
obstinate,  that  would  not,  sooner  or  later,  give  way  before  this 
mode  of  treatment. 

V.  Your  patient  being  convalescent,  white-wash  the  sty  ; fumi- 
gate it,  by  placing  a little  chloride  of  lime  in  a cup,  or  other  ves- 
sel, and  pouring  a little  vitriol  upon  it.  In  the  absence  of  vitriol, 
however,  boiling  water  will  answer  nearly  as  well. 

Finally,  all  mercurial  applications  are,  as  much  as  possible,  to 
be  avoided ; but,  above  every  thing,  avoid  the  use  of  ointments 
composed  of  hellebore,  corrosive  sublimate,  or  tobacco-water,  or, 
in  short,  any  poisonous  ingredient  whatever ; very  few  cures  have 
ever  been  effected  by  the  use  of  these  so  called  remedies,  but  very 
many  deaths  have  resulted  from  their  adoption. 

VIII.  Staggers,  caused  by  excess  of  blood  to  the  head ; bleed 
freely  from  behind  the  ears,  and  purge. 

IX.  Crackings  will  sometimes  appear  on  the  skin  of  a hog,  es- 
pecially about  the  root  of  the  ears  and  tail,  and  at  the  flanks. 
These  are  not  at  all  to  be  confounded  with  mange,  never  resulting 
from  anything  but  exposure  to  extremes  of  temperature,  without 
the  suffering  animal  being  able  to  avail  himself  of  such  protec- 
tions as,  in  a state  of  nature,  instinct  would  have  induced  him  tc 
adopt.  They  are  peculiarly  troublesome  in  the  heats  of  summer, 
if  the  hog  be  exposed  to  a hot  sun  for  any  length  of  time,  with- 
out the  advantage  of  a marsh  or  pool  in  which  to  lave  his  parched 
limbs  and  half  scorched  carcass.  Anoint  the  cracked  parts  twice 
or  thrice  a day  with  tar  and  lard,  well  melted  up  together. 

X.  Ratille,  or  Swelling  of  the  Spleen. — The  symptom 
most  positively  indicative  of  this  disease,  is  the  circumstance  of  the 
affected  animal  leaning  towards  one  side,  cringing,  as  it  were,  from 
internal  pain,  and  bending  towards  the  ground.  The  cause  of  the 
obstruction  on  which  the  disease  depends  is  over-feeding,  permit- 
ting the  hog’s  indulging  its  appetite  to  the  utmost  extent  that  glut- 
tony may  prompt,  and  the  capacity  of  its  stomach  admit  of;  a 
very  short  perseverance  in  this  mode  of  management  will  produce 
this,  as  well  as  other  maladies,  deriving  their  origin  from  a de- 
praved condition  of  the  secretions  and  obstruction  of  the  excretory 
ducts. 

On  first  perceiving  the  complaint,  clear  out  the  alimentary  canal 
by  means  of  a strong  aperient.  If  you  think  you  can  manage  it, 
you  may  administer  this  forcibly,  by  having  the  mouth  kept  ojen 


52 


HOGS. 


by  two  cords,  thal  attached  to  the  upper  jaw  being  thrown  across 
a joist,  and  drawn  just  so  tight  as  to  compel  the  patient  to  sup- 
port himself  on  the  extremities  of  his  fore-toes ; or  allow  the  ani- 
mal to  fast  for  from  four  to  five  hours,  he  will  then  take  a little 
sweet  wash  or  broth,  and  in  it  you  may  mingle  a dose  of  Epsom 
salts,  proportioned  to  his  bulk.  This  will  generally  effect  the  de- 
sired end  of  a copious  evacuation,  and  the  action  of  this  medicine 
on  the  watery  secretions  will  further  relieve  the  existing  diseased 
state  of  the  spleen.  Many  recommend  bleeding  ; and  if  the  affec- 
tion have  continued  for  any  length  of  time,  it  should  be  resorted 
to  at  once  ; when  the  disease  is,  however,  discovered  ere  it  has  at- 
tained any  considerable  head,  the  aperient  will  suffice.  The  French 
veterinarians  recommend  the  expressed  juice  of  the  leaves  and 
tops  of  wormword  and  liverwort  to  be  given,  half  a pint  for  a 
dose.  The  decoction  of  these  plants  produced  by  boiling  them  in 
soft  water  for  six  hours,  may  be  given  in  doses  of  from  half  a pint 
to  a pint  and  a-half,  according  to  the  size,  age,  &c.,  of  the  patient. 

Scammony  and  rhubarb,  mixed  up  in  a bran  mash,  or  with  In- 
dian meal,  may  be  given  with  advantage  the  following  day,  or 
equal  portions  of  bluepill  mass  and  compound  colocynth  pill, 
formed  into  a bolus  with  butter,  and  the  animal,  having  been 
kept  fasting  the  previous  night,  will  probably  swallow  it ; if  he 
will  not  do  so,  let  his  fast  continue  for  a couple  of  hours  longer; 
Lower  the  animal’s  diet,  and  keep  him  on  reduced  fare,  with  exer- 
cise, and  if  you  can  manage  it,  grazing , until  the  malady  has  quite 
passed  away ; if  you  then  wish  to  fatten,  remember  to  do  so 
gradually  ; be  cautious  of  at  once  restoring  the  patient  to  full  diet. 

XI.  Surfeit. — Another  name  for  indigestion ; the  symptoms 
are  such  as  might  be  expected — panting,  loss  of  appetite,  swelling 
of  the  region  about  the  stomach,  <fcc.,  and  frequently  throwing  up 
the  contents  of  the  stomach.  In  general,  this  affection  will  pass 
away,  provided  only  it  is  permitted  to  cure  itself,  and  all  food  care- 
fully kept  from  the  patient  for  a few  hours  ; a small  quantity  of 
sweet  grains,  with  a little  bran-wash,  may  then  be  given,  but  not 
nearly  as  much  as  the  animal  would  wish  to  take.  For  a few 
days  the  food  had  better  be  limited  in  quantity,  and  of  a washy, 
liquid  nature.  You  may  then  resume  the  ordinary  food,  only  ob- 
serving to  feed  regularly,  and  remove  the  fragments  remaining 
after  each  meal. 

XII.  Lethargy. — Symptoms,  torpor,  and  desire  to  sleep,  hang- 
ing of  the  head,  and  frequently  redness  of  the  eyes.  The  apparent 


DISEASES  OF  SWINE. 


Ifa 

origin  of  this  disease  is  the  same  as  the  last,  only  in  this  instance 
acting  upon  a hog  having  a natural  tendency  to  a redundancy  of 
blood.  Bleed  at  the  back  of  both  the  ears  as  copiously  as  you 
can,  and  if  you  cannot  obtain  a sufficient  quantity  of  blood  from 
these  sources,  have  recourse  to  the  tail.  Administer  an  emetic,  of 
which  a decoction  of  chamomile  flowers  will  be  found  the  safest ; 
a sufficient  dose  of  tartar  emetic,  which  will  be  far  inore  certain. 
After  this,  reduce  for  a few  days  the  amount  of  the  animal’s  food, 
and  administer  a small  portion  of  sulphur  and  nitre  in  each  morn- 
ing’s meal. 

XIII.  Heavings,  or  inflammation  of  the  lungs. — This  disease, 
which  has  acquired  its  name  from  the  principal  symptom  by 
which  it  is  characterized,  is  scarcely  to  be  regarded  as  curable.  If, 
indeed,  it  were  observed  in  its  first  stage,  when  indicated  by  loss 
of  appetite,  and  a short,  hard  cough,  it  might  run  some  chance  of 
being  got  under  by  copious  bleeding,  and  friction  with  stimulating 
ointment  on  the  region  of  the  lungs,  minute  and  frequent  doses  of 
tartar  emetic  should  also  be  given  in  butter,  all  food  of  a stimu- 
lating nature  carefully  avoided,  and  the  animal  kept  dry  and 
warm.  Under  these  circumstances,  there  would  be  no  reason  ab- 
solutely to  despair  of  a cure,  but  it  would  be  advisable  at  the 
same  time,  if  the  hog,  when  this  primary  stage  of  the  malady  was 
discovered,  were  not  in  very  poor  condition,  to  put  him  to  death. 
If  once  the  heavings  set  in,  it  may  be  calculated  with  confidence 
that  the  formation  of  tubercles  in  the  substance  of  the  lungs  has 
begun,  and  when  these  are  once  formed,  they  are  very  rarely  ab- 
sorbed. The  cause  of  this  disease  is  damp  lodging,  foul  air,  want 
of  ventilation,  and  unwholesome  food.  It  is  difficult  to  suggest 
what  should  be  done  when  matters  have  reached  this  pass,  or  what 
remedies  would  prove  of  any  service.  It  is  now  too  late  in  most 
cases  to  resort  to  blood-letting,  and  the  hide  of  the  hog  is  so  tough 
that  it  is  not  easy  to  blister  it,  for  the  purpose  of  counter-irritation ; 
you  may,  however,  try  the  following,  though  perhaps  the  knife 
might  be  best,  if  only  to  relieve  the  poor  sufferer,  and  provide 
against  the  danger  of  infection ; for  it  may  be  as  well  to  state,  that 
once  tubercular  formation  becomes  established,  the  disease  may  be 
communicated  through  the  medium  of  the  atmosphere,  the  infec- 
tious influence  depending  upon  the  noxious  particles  respired 
from  the  lungs  of  the  diseased  animal.  Shave  the  hair  away 
from  the  chest,  and  beneath  each  fore-leg ; wet  the  part  with  spi- 
ri  ts  of  turpentine,  and  set  fire  to  it ; you  will,  of  course,  have  had 


64 


HOGS. 


the  patient  well  secured,  and  his  head  well  raised,  and  have  at 
hand  a tannel  cloth,  with  which  to  extinguish  the  flame,  when 
you  conceive  it  has  burned  a sufficient  time  to  produce  slight  blis- 
ters ; if  carried  too  far,  a sore  would  be  formed,  which  would  be 
productive  of  no  good  effects,  and  cause  the  poor  animal  unneces- 
sary suffering.  Calomel  may  also  be  used,  with  a view  to  promote 
the  absorption  of  the  tubercles,  but  the  success  is  questionable. 

XIV.  Diarrhoea,  or  looseness. — The  symptoms,  of  course,  re- 
quire no  comment,  as  they  constitute  the  disease.  Before  attempt- 
ing to  stop  the  discharge,  which,  if  permitted  to  continue  un- 
checked, would  rapidly  prostrate  the  animal’s  strength,  and  proba- 
bly terminate  fatally,  ascertain  the  quality  of  food  the  animal  has 
recently  had.  In  a majority  of  instances,  you  will  find  this  to  be 
the  origin  of  the  disease ; and  if  it  has  been  perceived  in  its  in- 
cipient stage,  a mere  change  to  a more  binding  diet,  as  corn,  four , 
&c.,  will  suffice  for  a cure  ; if  you  have  reason  to  apprehend  that 
acidity  is  present,  produced  in  all  probability  by  the  hog  having 
fed  upon  coarse,  rank  grasses  in  swampy  places,  give  some  chalk 
in  the  food,  or  powdered  egg-shells,  with  about  half  a drachm  of 
powdered  rhubarb ; the  dose  of  course  varying  with  the  size  of 
the  hog.  In  the  acom  season,  and  where  facilities  for  obtaining 
them  exist,  they  alone  will  be  found  quite  sufficient  to  effect  a 
cure.  When  laboring  under  this  complaint,  dry  lodging  is  indis- 
pensable ; and  diligence  will  be  necessary  to  maintain  it  and  clean- 
liness. 

XV.  Quinsy,  or  an  inflammatory  affection  of  the  glands  of  the 
throat. — Shave  away  the  hair,  and  rub  with  tartar  emetic  oint- 
ment. Stuping  with  very  warm  water  is  also  useful.  When  ex- 
ternal suppuration  takes  place,  you  may  regard  it  as  rather  a fa- 
vorable symptom  than  otherwise.  In  this  case,  wait  until  the 
swellings  are  thoroughly  ripe,  then,  with  a sharp  knife,  make  an 
incision  through  the  entire  length,  press  out  the  matter,  wash  with 
warm  water,  and  afterwards  dress  the  wound  with  any  resinous 
ointment,  or  yellow  soap  with  coarse  brown  sugar. 

XVI.  Tumors,  or  hard  swellings,  which  make  their  appearance 
on  several  different  parts  of  the  animal’s  body.  It  would  not  be 
easy  to  state  the  causes  which  give  rise  to  these  tumors,  for  they 
vary  with  circumstances.  They  are  not  formidable,  and  require 
only  to  be  suffered  to  progress  until  they  soften ; then  make  a free 
incision,  and  press  out  the  matter.  Sulphur  and  nitre  should  be 


SLAUGHTERING  AND  CURING. 


65 


given  in  the  food,  as  the  appearance  of  these  swellings,  whatever 
be  their  cause,  indicates  the  necessity  of  alterative  medicines. 

XVII.  Catarrh,  an  inflammation  of  the  mucous  membranes  of 
the  nose,  &c.,  if  taken  in  time,  is  easily  cured  by  opening  medi- 
cine, followed  up  by  warm  bran-mash,  a warm,  dry  sty,  and  absti- 
nence from  rich  grains  or  stimulating  farinaceous  diet.  The  cause 
has  probably  been  exposure  to  drafts  of  air — see  to  it. 

The  instructions  given  comprise  all  that  the  amateur  will  ever 
find  necessary  for  domestic  practice,  and  far  more  than  he  will 
ever  find  occasion  to  follow,  if  he  have  attended  to  cleanliness,  dry 
lodging,  regularity  of  feeding,  the  use  of  salt  in  the  food,  and  the 
addition  of  occasionally  a small  quantity  of  sulphur  and  nitre  tc 
the  morning’s  meal. 


CHAPTER  X. 

SLAUGHTERING  and  curing. 

The  Almighty  Creator,  when  he  had  formed  man,  and  placed 
him  upon  the  earth,  gave  him  power  of  life  and  and  death  over 
all  the  inferior  animals.  This  power  was,  however,  given  to  him 
to  be  used,  not  to  be  abused ; while  permitted  to  slay  for  food, 
clothing,  or  other  necessaries,  nay,  luxuries  of  life,  it  was  never  de- 
signed by  our  all-benevolent  as  well  as  omnipotent  Lord  that  this 
power  should  be  converted  into  a medium  of  cruelty,  or  that  life 
should  be  taken  away  from  any  of  his  creatures  in  any  other  than 
the  most  humane  manner  possible.  The  necessity  of  humanity 
towards  animals  thus  stands  as  not  only  a high  moral  duty,  but 
one  absolutely  enjoined  as  a divine  ordinance  ; it  is  also  a part  and 
parcel  of  all  that  is  noble  or  excellent  in  human  nature. 

It  is  a mistake  to  suppose  that  this  poor  animal  is  insensible  to 
pain.  The  poor  hog  does  indeed  feel,  and  that  most  acutely ; 
well  would  it  be  for  him  that  he  did  not,  for  then  what  miseries 
would  he  not  be  spared ! he  would  not  then  care  whether  he  was 
put  out  of  pain  at  once,  or  suffered  to  . hang  up  by  the  hind  legs, 
the  limbs  previously  dislocated  at  the  hocks,  between  the  tendons 
and  the  bone  of  which  has  been  passed  the.  hook  by  which  he  is 
suspended.  Were  he  indeed  insensible  to  pain,  it  weald  of  course 
be  a matter  of  indifference  whether  or  not  he  were  suffered  to  die 


06 


HOGS. 


first,  or,  as  soon  as  he  had  bled  a sufficient  quantity — was,  still 
living  and  breathing,  plunged  into  boiling  water,  in  order  to  remove 
his  hair;  or  then,  with  a refinement  of  cruelty  that  would  not 
even  permit  of  his  being  put  out  of  his  misery  so  soon,  removed 
from  the  cauldron,  ere  fife  or  feeling  had  yet  departed,  opened,  and 
disembowelled  alive. 

I should  be  sorry  to  give  pain  to  the  feelings  of  any  of  my  read- 
ers, but  I had  rather  hurt  their  feelings  than  leave  a suffering,  a 
tortured  quadruped,  and  that,  too,  one  so  useful  to  us,  to  experi- 
ence such  an  ungrateful  return,  in  the  shape  of  such  terrible  and 
revolting  miseries.  I have  described  nothing  but  what  I have  per- 
sonally witnessed,  and  I trust  that  what  I have  said  may  induce 
master-butchers  and  others  to  ascertain  the  conduct  of  their  slaugh- 
terers, and  the  manner  in  which  they  perform  their  necessary  but 
painful  duty. 

The  usual  mode  of  killing  a hog  in  the  country  parts  of  England  is, 
is,  or  used  lately  to  be,  fastening  a rope  around  the  upper  jaw,  and 
throwing  it  across  a joist  or  beam ; this  is  hauled  by  an  assistant 
just  sufficiently  tight  to  compel  the  animal  to  support  himself  upon 
the  extremities  of  his  toes,  with  his  snout  elevated  in  the  air.  The 
butcher  then  kneels  in  front  of  him,  and  taking  a sharp  and  pointed 
knife,  first  shaves  away  the  hair  from  a small  portion  of  the  front 
of  the  throat,  then  gently  passing  the  sharp-pointed  steel  through 
the  superficial  fat,  gives  it  a plunge  forward,  a turn,  and  withdraws 
his  weapon.  A gush  of  blood  follows,  which  is  usually  caught  in 
proper  vessels,  for  the  purpose  of  forming  black  puddings.  The 
rope  is  somewhat  slackened — the  victim  totters,  reels,  the  eye  glaz- 
es—his  screams  cease — he  falls,  and  life  would  speedily  become 
extinct ; but,  alas  ! the  butcher  is  paid  by  the  job,  he  is  in  a hur- 
ry, and  ere  the  breath  is  out  of  the  poor  brute’s  carcass,  nay,  ere 
he  ceases  to  struggle  or  moan,  he  is  tumbled  into  the  scalding  tub ; 
he  is  then  withdrawn  in  a second,  placed  upon  a table,  the  hair 
and  bristles  carefully  removed  by  scraping  with  a knife ; disem- 
bowelling follows — and  it  is  well  if  the  poor  wretch  has  perished 
before  that  process  commenced. 

In  olden  times,  it  would  appear  that  our  butchers  were  less 
hasty,  or  more  merciful.  All  the  skulls  of  hogs  were  broken  in 
upon  the  frontal  bones,  precisely  in,  the  same  manner  as  are  now 
the  skulls  of  oxen  and  other  animals.  Were  the  hog  first  deprived 
of  sensibility  by  compression  of  the  brain,  as  produced  by  a violent 
blow  upon  the  forehead,  he  would  be  a passive  victim  in  \he  butch 


SLAUGHTERING  AND  CURING. 


57 


er’s  hands,  who  could  not  only  perform  all  the  remainder  of  the 
process  with  more  humanity,  but — and  think  well  of  it,  such  of  you 
as  might  probably  be  swayed  by  no  other  consideration — with 
more  despatch  and  less  trouble. 

I am  happy  in  being  able  to  add,  that  the  humane  custom  of 
knocking  the  hog  on  the  head  before  cutting  his  throat,  is  rapidly 
gaining  ground,  and  that  no  respectable  butcher  will  allow  it  to  be 
dispensed  with.  In  the  country  parts  of  both  England  and  Ire- 
land, however,  the  old  abuses  are  still  permitted  to  exist ; and  I am 
grieved  to  say  that  everywhere , with  a very  few  honorable  excep- 
tions, the  barbarous  practice  of  plunging  the  hog  into  the  scald, 
while  yet  living,  is  still  systematically  and  designedly  adopted.  A 
very  respectable  man  surprised  me  the  other  day,  by  deliberately 
telling  me  that  “ A hog  will  no  way  scald  so  well  as  when  the  life 
is  in  him.”  This  is,  however,  a mistake.  It  is  only  necessary  not 
to  suffer  the  animal  to  become  cold  and  stiff.  Readers — I raise 
my  voice  in  behalf  of  a most  useful  and  most  cruelly  treated  ani- 
mal ; may  I beg  of  you  all  to  unite  with  me  in  the  cause  of  hu- 
manity, and  then  I shall  not  have  raised  my  voice  in  vain. 

And  now,  having  supposed  the  animal  killed  and  dressed,  let 
us  proceed  to  inquire  into  the  most  approved  modes  by  which  its 
flesh  may  be  converted  into  bacon  and  ham.  The  hog  should  be 
left  fasting  for  full  twenty-four  hours  before  killed  ; and  after  the 
carcass  has  hung  all  night,  it  should  be  laid  on  its  back  upon  a 
strong  table.  The  head  should  then  be  cut  off  close  by  the  ears, 
and  the  hinder  feet  so  far  below  the  houghs  as  not  to  disfigure  the 
hams,  and  leave  room  sufficient  to  hang  them  up  by ; after  which 
the  carcass  is  divided  into  equal  halves,  up  the  middle  of  the  back- 
bone, with  a cleaving-knife,  and,  if  necessary,  a hand-mallet.  Then 
cut  the  ham  from  the  side  by  the  second  joint  of  the  back-bone, 
which  will  appear  on  dividing  the  carcass,  and  dress  the  ham  by 
paring  a little  off  the  flank,  or  skinny  part,  so  as  to  shape  it  with 
a half  round  point,  clearing  off  any  top  fat  that  may  appear.  The 
curer  will  next  cut  off  the  sharp  edge  along  the  back-bone  with  a 
knife  and  mallet,  and  slice  off  the  first  rib  next  the  shoulder,  where 
he  will  find  a bloody  vein,  which  must  be  taken  out,  for,  if  left  in, 
that  part  is  apt  to  spoil.  The  corners  should  be  squared  off 
when  the  ham  is  cut  out. 

I quote  this  passage,  because  it  recommends  a novel  mode  of 
cutting  bacon,  and  one  which  I have  not  as  yet  seen  practised.  The 
ordinary  practice  is  to  cat  out  the  spine  or  back-bone,  and,  in  some 
3* 


58 


HOGS. 


English  counties,  to  take  out  the  ribs  also.  It  is  only  in  porkers 
that  the  back-bone  is  thus  divided. 

The  most  approved  mode  of  saving  bacon,  as  practised  by  a ma- 
jority of  those  extensive  curers  who  have  kindly  favored  me  with 
the  necessary  details  of  this  portion  of  my  subject,  is  as  follows  : — 
If  the  swine  you  design  killing  have  been  a recent  purchase,  and 
have  been  driven  from  a distance,  so  as  to  have  become  winded  or 
jaded,  it  is  right  that  they  should  be  kept  up  for  a week,  or  per- 
haps more,  until  the  effects  of  the  journey  have  been  entirely  re- 
moved, and  the  animals  restored  to  their  original  tranquillity  and 
primeness  of  condition  ; during  this  interval  they  should  be  fed 
upon  meal  and  water.  A difference  of  opinion  exists,  as  to  whe- 
ther this  food  should  be  given  in  a raw  state  or  boiled.  I have 
taken  some  pains  to  ascertain  the  truth,  and  have  no  hesitation  in 
pronouncing  in  favor  of  the  latter  ; at  the  same  time,  however,  the 
mess  should  be  given  in  a perfectly  cold  state,  and  not  of  too  thick 
consistence.  Some  recommend  that  a small  dose  of  nitre  should 
be  given  daily  in  the  food  for  a fortnight  previous  to  killing  ; others 
pronounce  this  to  be  unnecessary ; but  all  unite  in  recommending 
a very  considerable  reduction  in  the  animal’s  food  for  two  or  even 
three  days  before  killing,  and  a total  deprivation  of  food  for  at  least 
the  last  twelve  hours  of  life. 

In  the  country  districts  of  Ireland,  the  hog  is  usually  secured  by 
the  hind  leg  to  a post  or  ring,  the  head  is  fastened  to  another ; the 
animal  is  thus  securely  strapped  down  upon  a sloping  slab  or  ta- 
ble, and  the  head  is  severed  from  the  body  by  means  of  a sharp 
knife.  I am  informed  that  the  bacon  of  a hog  thus  killed  is  more 
easily  saved,  and  is  superior  in  flavor  and  color. 

The  ordinary  mode  of  killing  a hog  is,  I am  most  happy  to  say, 
gradually  approximating  to  such  as  humanity  would  dictate.  It 
is  thus  : — A flat  stage  or  table,  inclining  downwards  in  one  direc- 
tion, is-  prepared  ; the  pig  receives  a powerful  blow  with  a mallet 
upon  the  forehead,  which  effectually  deprives  him  of  sensation  ; he 
is  then  thrown  upon  the  stage,  and  a knife  plunged  into  the  chest, 
or  rather  into  that  spot  where  the  chest  meets  the  neck.  The 
blood  flows  freely,  and  is  received  into  vessels  placed  for  the  pur- 
pose. A large  tub  or  other  vessel  has  been  previously  got  ready, 
which  is  now  filled  with  boiling  water.  The  carcass  of  the  hog  is 

E lunged  into  this,  and  the  hair  is  then  removed  with  the  edge  of  a 
nife.  The  hair  is  more  easily  removed  if  the  hog  be  scalded  ere 
he  stiffens  or  becomes  quite  cold,  and  hence  some  butchers  cruelly 


SLAUGHTERING  AND  CURING. 


59 


conce  .'e  it  advisable  to  scald  him  while  yet  there  is  some  life  in  him. 
The  animal  is  now  hung  up,  opened,  and  the  entrails  removed ; 
the  head,  feet,  &c.,  are  cut  off,  and  the  carcass  divided,  cutting  up 
at  each  side  of  the  spine.  A strong  knife  and  mallet  arc  necessary 
for  this  purpose,  and  will  be  found  to  answer  better  than  a saw. 

Bacon  is  cured  in  very  different  ways<  For  domestic  use,  it  is 
usually  laid  upon  a table,  and  salt  with  a little  nitre  added,  well 
rubbed  in,  first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other,  either  with  the 
bare  hand  or  the  salting  glove.  Some  straw  is  then  placed  upon 
the  fioor  of  an  out-house,  a flitch  laid  thereon,  with  the  rind* 
downwards-*-straw  laid  above  this,  then  another  flitch,  and  so  on ; 
above  the  whole  is  placed  a board,  and  heavy  stones  or  weights 
above  all.  In  three  weeks  or  a month  the  meat  is  sufficiently 
salted,  and  is  hung  up  on  hooks  in  the  kitchen  rafters.  The 
general  practice  of  burning  wood  and  turf  in  Irish  kitchens,  im- 
parts a sweetness  to  the  bacon  thus  saved  that  is  not  to  be  met 
with  in  any  which  you  can  purchase. 

Another  mode  is  as  follows  : — Prepare  a pickle,  by  boiling  com- 
mon salt  and  nitre  in  water ; mix,  for  a single  hog,  of  tolerable  size, 
one  pound  of  coarse  brown  sugar,  with  half  a pound  of  nitre ; rub 
this  well  in  with  the  salting  glove,  then  put  the  meat  into  the 
pickle,  and  let  it  lie  in  this  for  two  days  ; afterwards  take  it  out  of 
the  pickle,  and  rub  it  with  salt  alone,  then  put  it  back  into  the 
pickle. 

For  a mild  cure — Form  sweet  pickle , by  boiling  molasses  with 
salt  and  water  ; rub  the  meat  with  sugar  and  nitre — add  a small 
portion  of  strong  pickle  to  the  meat — put  the  meat  into  this,  and 
let  it  li'e  in  it  for  three  weeks.  If  there  I.e  any  spare  room  in  the 
cask,  fill  up  with  molasses — eight  pounds  of  salt,  one  pound -of 
nitre,  and  six  pints  of  molasses  will  about  suffice  for  each  hundred 
weight  of  meat ; and  will  take  about  five  gallons  of  water. 

In  about  three  weeks,  less  or  more  time  being  required  according 
to  size,  take  the  meat  out  of  pickle,  and  hang  it  in  the  drying- 
house.  While  in  the  drying-house,  the  flitches  should  be  hung, 
neck  downwards.  You  may  cut  out  the  ham,  and  trim  the  flitch 
according  to  fancy — nearly  every  county  in  England  has,  in  this 
respect,  a fashion  of  its  own. 

You  then  remove  your  hams  and  bacon  to  the  smoking-house : 
they  should  not  be  suffered  to  touch  each  other  ; with  this  precau- 
tion you  may  hang  them  as  closely  as  you  please.  Smoke-houses 
are  of  every  dimension,  but  the  smallest  answer  as  well  as  the 


00 


HOGS. 


most  extensive.  Before  suspending  the  meat  in  the  smoke-lie -ae, 
it  should  be  previously  wtill  rubbed  over  with  bran.  The  fire  is 
made  of  saw-dust,  which  burns  with  a lov  smouldering  glow, 
giving  out  far  more  smoke  than  if  actually  flaming. 

In  the  process  of  smoking,  your  meat  will  lose  from  about  fifteen 
to  twenty  pounds  per  hundred  weight — a fact  necessary  to  be 
borne  in  mind. 

Sometimes  the  hogs  are  killed  before  they  arrive  at  full  size,  and 
their  hair  removed  by  singeing ; the  bacon  and  hams  of  these  are 
said  to  possess  peculiar  delicacy  of  flavor. 

The  best  saw-dust  for  smokmg  hams  or  bacon  is  that  made  from 
oak,  and  it  should  be  thoroughly  dry.  The  saw-dust  of  common 
deal  imparts  a flavor  of  a disagreeable  character,  not  unlike  that 
of  red  herrings. 

Westphalian  Hams. — The  genuine  Westphalian  bacon  is  par- 
ticularly good,  but  all  sold  under  that  name  is  not  genuine ; 
spurious  Westphalian  hams  are  manufactured  to  a considerable 
extent.  The  process  of  imitation  is  not  difficult,  and  none  but  one 
of  the  trade  can  detect  the  imposture.  The  fine  quality  of  West- 
phalian bacon  depends  on  several  causes : the  healthy  and  semi- 
wild life  the  swine  are  permitted  to  enjoy — their  relationship  to  the 
wild  boar — they  are  not  fattened  to  the  fullest  extent  previous  to 
killing.  A large  proportion  of  sugar  and  juniper-berries  are  used 
in  curing — the  proportion  being  usually  one  and  a half  pounds  of 
sugar  to  three  of  salt,  and  two  ounces  of  nitre.  The  smoke  is  also 
applied  in  a cold  state.  This  is,  perhaps,  the  principal  secret.  The 
hams  are  all  hung  at  the  top  of  a very  lofty  building,  and  by  the 
time  the  smoke  reaches  them  it  is  perfectly  cold. 

The  ham  of  the  Westphalian  hog  closely  resembles  that  of  the 
common  old  Irish  breed ; and  the  hams  of  that  animal,  when 
cured  as  has  been  described,  could  not  be  distinguished  from  those 
of  Westphalia  by  the  nicest  judge. 

Limerick. — The  hams  cured  in  Limerick  have  long  enjoyed  con- 
siderable celebrity,  and  are  supposed  to  be  superior  to  any  others 
— those  of  Westphalia  and  Hampshire  alone  excepted.  Their 
excellence  appears  chiefly  to  depend  upon  the  sparing  use  of  salt, 
and  the  substitution  for  it,  to  a great  extent,  of  coarse  sugar,  with 
judicious  smoking.  Some  of  the  Limerick  smoking-rooms  are  up- 
wards of  thirty  feet  in  height. 

Hampshire. — The  Hampshire  bacon  is  in  greater  esteem  than 
even  the  Westphalian — a circumstance  attributable  to  the  superior 


SLAUGHTERING  AND  CURING. 


61 


excellence  of  the  New-forest  svrine  to  those  of  that  c \intry,  while 
they  share  equally  with  them  the  privilege  of  a forest  life  and 
acorns.  The  Hampshire  curers  smoke  with  saw-dust.  In  both 
this  county  and  in  Berkshire,  singeing  is  adopted  more  generally 
than  scalding,  and  this  process  is  considered  superior  to  scalding, 
the  latter  being  supposed  to  soften  the  rind  and  render  the  fat  less 
firm. 

The  Wiltshire  bacon  is  of  peculiarly  delicious  quality,  but  the 
cause  is  obvious,  and  is  not  to  be  referred  to  any.  of  the  details  of 
the  curing  process.  This  bacon  is  prepared  from  dairy-fed  pork — 
this  is  the  true  secret. 

In  some  counties,  the  pig  is  shinned  prior  to  curing.  Some 
amount  of  additional  profit  is  of  course  derivable  from  this  practice, 
but  the  bacon  is  inferior,  being  liable  to  become  rusty,  as  well  as 
to  waste  in  the  boiling. 

Hams  and  flitches  should  always  be  hung  up  in  a dry  place, 
indeed  it  will  be  found  useful  to  sew  up  the  former  in  pieces  of 
canvass  or  sacking,  as  is  practised  with  the  Westphalian. 

It  is  difficult  to  save  bacon  in  summer  time,  or  in  warm  climates, 
but  a machine  has  recently  been  invented,,  for  which  a patent  has 
been  obtained,  which  renders  the  saving  of  meat  under  the  most 
adverse  circumstances  perfectly  easy.  The  machine  acts  as  a force- 
pump  or  syringe.  Its  extremity  is  inserted  into  the  meat,  and  the 
handle  worked ; the  brine,  which  must  be  very  strong,  is  thus 
forced  through  the  grain  of  the  meat,  and  it  is  effectually  impreg- 
nated with  it,  and  well  cured  long  ere  it  could  turn  : there  can  be 
no  doubt  but  that  this  instrument  is,  under  such  circumstances  as  I 
describe,  eminently  useful — but  it  is  no  less  certain  that  meat  so 
cured  is  not  equal  to  that  saved  under  ordinary  circumstances,  and 
in  the  ordinary  manner  ; the  grain  of  the  meat  is  too  much  loosened 
by  the  use  of  the  machine,  and  the  texture  is  thus  deteriorated  ; 
it  should,  therefore,  only  be  used  when  necessity  requires,  and 
never  by  'preference^  where  the  ordinary  process  can  be  adopted. 

To  extract  the  superabundant  salt  from  your  meat,  prior  to  use, 
has  long  been  a desideratum.  The  steeping  it  in  water  to  which 
carbonate  of  soda  has  been  added,  is  found  useful ; so  is  the  addi- 
tion of  the  same  substance,  or  of  lime,  to  the  water  in  which  it  is 
boiled  ; so  is  changing  the  water,  after  the  meat  has  been  about 
half  boiled.  Sailors  find  washing  the  meat  in  sea  water  very  effi- 
cacious, but  I have  made  the  discovery  that  this  object  can  be 
attained  to  a far  fuller  extent  by  a very  simple  chemical  process. 


62 


HOGS. 


Put  your  meat  to  steep  in  tepid  water,  and  after  it  has  lain  in  it 
for  some  hours,  add  a small  quantity  of  sulphuric  acid.  In  three 
or  four  hours,  take  it  out,  and  wash  it  two  or  three  times  in  water  ; 
to  the  third  water,  add  a small  portion  of  carbonate  of  soda.  Take 
your  meat  out,  wash  it  again,  and  boil  it  for  dinner.  You  will 
find  the  salt  nearly,  if  not  wholly,  discharged  ; but  you  need  not 
be  surprised  should  the  color  of  the  meat  be  somewhat  darkened 
— the  deterioration  does  not  extend  farther  ; the  flavor  remains  the 
same  as  when  first  corned,  and  the  article  becomes  as  wholesome 
as  fresh  meat.  It  is  possible  that  this  simple  process  may  be  found 
useful  in  long  voyages,  for  a long-continued  use  of  salted  animal 
food  without  a free  use  of  vegetables  is  found  to  contribute  to  the 
production  of  many  diseases. 

The  following  communication,  coming  from  a curer  by  profes- 
sion, will  be  found  at  once  interesting  and  useful : — 

“ The  hog  is  usually  kept  fasting  for  twenty-four  hours  previous 
to  being  killed.  He  is  then  brought  to  the  slaughter-house,  and 
despatched  in  the  following  maimer  : The  butcher  takes  a mall 

(a  hammer  with  a long  handle,  like  those  used  for  breaking  stones 
on  a road),  and  with  it  strikes  the  hog  on  the  forehead  ; if  he  be 
an  expert  hand,  a single  blow  will  suffice  to  knock  the  hog  down, 
and  render  him  quite  senseless.  A knife  is  then  taken,  and  the 
butcher  sticks  the  animal  in  the  lower  part  of  the  throat,  just  be- 
tween the  fore  legs.  A boiler  or  tub,  full  of  very  hot  or  boiling 
water,  is  then  prepared,  in  which  the  hog  is  immersed  until  the 
hair  becomes  so  loose  that  it  can  be  scraped  off  with  a knife  quite 
clean  ; where  there  is  no  convenience  of  this  kind,  the  same  effect 
may  be. produced  by  pouring  boiling  water  over  the  hog.  The  hog 
is  then  hung  up  by  the  hind  legs,  cut  up  the  middle,  and  the  en- 
trails taken  out ; after  this,  the  carcass  is  left  there  for  about  twelve 
hours,  to  cool  and  become  firm,  when  it  is  fit  for  boning  or  cutting 
up.  Sometimes,  instead  of  scalding,  the  hog  is  singed  by  fire — 
burned  straw  is  generally  used  for  this  purpose ; and  this  is  called 
‘ singed  pork.’ 

“ The  following  is  the  mode  of  boning  or  cutting : — The  pig  is 
placed  on  a strong  table  or  bench ; the  head  is  then  cut  off  close 
to  the  ears  ; the  hog  is  then  opened  down  the  back,  a cleaver  or 
saw  is  used  for  the  purpose,  and  both  back-bone  and  hip-bones  are 
taken  out,  except  in  one  or  two  places,  yet  to  be  spoken  of,  where 
a different  system  is  pursued.  The  hind-feet  are  then  cut  off,  so 
as  to  leave  a shank  to  the  ham.  The  fore-legs  are  then  cut  round 


SLAUGHTERING  AND  CURING. 


63 


at  the  hough,  the  flesh  scraped  upwards  off  the  bone,  and  off  the 
shoulder-blade,  which  is  taken  out,  quite  bare,  under  the  side. 
The  saw  is  then  run  along  the  ribs,  so  as  to  crack  them  ; they  then 
he  quite  flat.  The  hog  is  then  divided  straight  up  the  back,  and 
the  sides  are  ready  for  salting,  the  ham  still  remaining  in. 

“ When  the  sides  are  ready  for  salting,  they  are  well  rubbed  on 
the  rind  side,  and  the  space  from  which  the  shoulder-blade  was 
taken  out  is  filled  with  salt.  The  sides  are  then  laid  singly  upon 
a flagged  floor,  and  salt  is  shaken  over  them.  In  a day,  or  two 
days  if  the  weather  be  cold,  they  must  again  be  salted  in  the  same 
manner ; but  now  two  sides  may  be  put  together,  and  powdered 
saltpetre  shaken  over  each  side,  in  the  proportion  of  about  two 
ounces  to  each  side,  if  of  average  bacon  size.  After  three  or  four 
days,  the  sides  are  to  be  again  changed,  the  shanks  of  the  hams 
rubbed,  the  salt  stirred  on,  a little  fresh  salt  shaken  over  them,  and 
five  or  six  sides  may  now  be  placed  over  each  other.  The  sides  may 
then  be  left  thus  for  a week,  when  they  may  be  piled  one  over 
the  other  to  the  number  of  ten  or  twenty  sides,  if  you  have  killed 
so  many  hogs.  Leave  them  so  for  above  three  weeks,  until  they 
get  firm  ; they  may  then  be  considered  saved,  and  will  keep  so 
for  six  or  eight  months,  or  according  to  pleasure. 

“ When  required  for  use  or  for  market,  the  sides  are  taken  out 
of  the  salt,  well  swept  and  cleaned — the  ham  taken  out,  hung  up, 
and  dried  with  turf  smoke ; if  a brown  color  be  desired,  a little 
sawdust  of  hard  wood  may  be  thrown  over  the  turf.  If  hung  up 
in  a kitchen  where  turf  is  burned,  and  suffered  to  remain,  not  too 
near  the  fire,  the  same  effect  will  be  produced ; and  if  the  bacon 
have  been  well  saved  in  salt,  it  will  be  excellent. 

“ The  Belfast  and  Limerick  methods  of  cutting  differ  from  what 
I have  described,  inasmuch  as  the  hip  bones  are  left  in,  and  the 
hams  are  cut  out,  while  the  hog  is  fresh,  and  saved  separately.  In 
some  cases,  also,  the  ribs  are  taken  out  of  the  sides,  and,  in  Bel- 
fast, the  shoulder  blade  is  taken  out  over  the  side. 

“ Both  the  Belfast  and  Limerick  hams  are  cured  in  the  same 
mild  manner ; they  are,  as  I have  stated,  cut  out  of  the  hog  when 
fresh,  cured  separately,  and  only  left  a sufficient  time  to  be  saved, 
and  no  more.  They  are  not  suffered  to  become  too  salty , a fault 
sometimes  perceptible  in  the  Wicklow  hams.  The  Limerick'  and 
Belfast  curers  also  make  up  different  other  portions  of  the  hog 
separately,  as  long  sides , middles,  and  rolls , for  the  English  market. 


64 


HOGS. 


“ Sometimes  the  ribs  are  taken  out,  and  sometimes  not,  accord- 
ing to  the  market  for  which  they  are  intended. 

“ Limerick  and  Belfast  hams  are  C Jred  in  the  following  man- 
ner : — They  are  cut  fresh  from  the  pig,  with  the  hip  bones  left  in 
them,  and  are  placed  on  a flagged  floor,  the  front  of  the  second 
ham  resting  upon  the  shank  of  the  first,  and  so  on  until  all  are 
placed ; they  are  then  sprinkled  with  strong  pickle  from  a watering 
pot,  and  a small  quantity  of  salt  is  shaken  over  them.  Next  day, 
the  hams  are  taken  up,  well  rubbed  with  salt,  and  laid  down  as 
before,  when  saltpetre  is  shaken  over  them  in  quantities  propor- 
tionate to  their  size ; they  are  left  so  for  two  days,  and  then  taken 
up  and  rubbed  as  before,  when  they  are  laid  down  again,  accord- 
ing to  the  space  they  have  to  fill — from  three  to  six  hams  in 
height,  with  layers  of  salt  between.  After  six  days,  the  hams  are 
reversed  in  the  piles,  that  is,  those  that  were  packed  on  the  top 
are  put  at  the  bottom.  They  then  remain  for  six  days  longer  in 
the  pile,  wtten  they  are  considered  cured.  They  are  then  taken 
up,  and  washed,  and  hung  up  to  dry  in  the  air.  When  they  are 
to  be  smoked,  they  should  be  placed  in  a house  made  for  that  pur- 
pose, and  smoked — in  Belfast,  with  wheaten  straw  and  sawdust,  in 
Limerick  with  peat  or  turf. 

“ The  English  method  of  cutting  up  and  curing  is  similar  to 
that  practised  in  Belfast  and  Limerick,  with  the  difference,  that, 
with  the  exception  of  Hampshire,  and,  I believe,  one  other  county, 
they  never  smoke  their  bacon. 

“We  have,  this  season,  had  imported  a great  quantity  of  hams 
and  other  bacon  from  Cincinnati,  and  Baltimore,  in  America. 
They  are  cut  in  the  same  manner  as  the  Limerick,  and  are  in  much 
esteem.  The  cured  shoulders  of  the  hog  have  also  been  imported 
— cut  straight  across,  with  the  blade  in,  and  the  shank  left  attach- 
ed. We  have  also  received  middles , and  quantities  of  pork,  in  bar- 
rels, which  is  merely  the  hog  cut  up  in  pieces,  and  pickled. 

“ I have  reason  to  know  that  there  are  at  the  present  time  num- 
bers of  curers  emigrating  from  our  best  curing  districts  to  America 
and  we  may  accordingly  expect,  ere  long*  to  find  our  American 
hams  surpassing,  owing  to  the  quality  of  the  hogs  the)  will  have 
to  operate  upon,  even  our  long-famed  Limerick  hams.” 


THE  END. 


THE 


HIYE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE 

WITH 

PLAIN  DIRECTIONS 

FOR 

OBTAINING  A CONSIDERABLE  ANNUAL  INCOME  FROM  THIS 
BRANCH  OF  RURAL  ECONOMY. 

TO  WHICH  13  ADDED, 

AN  ACCOUNT  OP  THE  DISEASES  OP  BEES, 

WITH  THEIR  REMEDIES. 


ALSO, 


REMARKS  AS  TO  THEIR  ENEMIES,  AND  THE  BEST  MODE  OW 
PROTECTING  THE  BEES  FROM  THETR  ATTACKS 


BY 

H.  D.  RICHARDSON, 

Author  of  “The  Horse,”  “Domestic  Fowl,”  “The  Pests  of  the  Faras0!, 
“The  Hog,”  etc.,  etc. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  ON  WOOD. 


NEW  YORK:  % 

C.  M.  SAXTON  AND  COMPANY, 
AGRICULTURAL  BOOK  PUBLISHERS, 

No.  140  Fulton  Street. 

1856. 


r v?  ‘ 


- 


PUBLISHER’S  ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  Publisher,  having  found  the  want  of  small,  cheap  Books,  cf 
acknowledged  merit,  on  the  great  topics  of  farming  economy,  and 
meeting  for  those  of  such  a class  a constant  demand,  offers,  in  this 
one,  a work  calculated  to  fill  the  void. 

The  works  of  Richardson  on  the  Hog,  the  Horse,  the  Bee,  the 
Domestic  Fowl,  and  the  Pests  of  the  Farm,  are  popular  in  England 
and  in  America,  and,  in  evidence  of  their  worth,  meet  with  continued 
sale  both  there  and  here.  Hitherto  they  have  not  been  offered  to  the 
American  public  in  an  American  dress ; and  the  Publisher  presents 
in  this  Reprint,  one  of  the  series,  adapted  to  American  wants,  and 
trusts  that  a discerning  Public  will  both  buy  and  read  these  little 
Treatises,  so  admirably  adapted  to  all  classes,  and  fitted  by  their 
fiiie  for  the  pocket,  and  thus  readable  at  the  fireside,  on  the  road, 
and  in  short  everywhere. 

C.  M.  SAXTON, 

Agricultural  Book  Publisher . 


' * 


* 

. 

Sr 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

Chapter  I. — Introductory  ...  . , 7 

Chapter  II. — The  Honey-Bee  and  its  three  Classes  . . 9 

Chapter  III. — Architecture  of  the  Honey-Bee,  and  Economy  of  the 

Hive  ........  14 

Chapter  IV. — Generation  of  the  Honey-Bee  . .18 

Chapter  V. — Position  of  the  Apiary  . . . .23 

Chapter  VI. — Hives  and  Boxes  .....  27 

Chapter  VII. — How  your  Stock  is  to  be  obtained  . . .41 

Chapter  VIII. — Swarming  ......  44 

Chapter  IX. — The  Honey  Harvest  .....  49 

Chapter  X. — Management  during  Winter  and  early  Spring  . 61 

Chapter  XI. — The  Diseases  and  Enemies  of  Bees  . . .65 

Chapter  XII. — How  to  treat  the  Produce  of  your  Honey  Harvest  69 


* 


’ 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCTORY. 

The  subject  of  Bee  culture  is  one  that  should  occupy  a far 
more  prominent  position  than  it  at  present  does,  in  the  do- 
mestic economy  of  the  farmer.  When  successfully  conducted, 
the  management  of  these  interesting  insects  becomes  a source  of 
pecuniary  profit ; and  to  be  a successful  cultivator  requires  only 
a very  moderate  degree  of  care  and  attention  : let  it  be  remem- 
bered that  the  first  outlay  in  procuring  a swarm,  and  providing 
suitable  accommodation  in  the  shape  of  hives  or  bee-boxes,  is  the 
only  expense  to  be  incurred  ; while  the  return,  yielded  by  each 
honey  harvest,  is  very  considerable,  and  to  be  regarded  as  clear 
gain. 

In  order  to  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  the  profit  which  may 
accrue  from  bee-keeping,  under  favorable  circumstances,  I may 
mention  a statement  of  the  late  Mr.  Nutt,  relative  to  the  quantity 
of  honey  taken  by  him  from  one  set  of  collateral  boxes,  in  a 
single  season,  viz : 183  lbs.  5 oz. 

This  statement  has  surprised  many,  and  its  accuracy  has  been 
doubted  by  some  bee-keepers  ; and  it  certainly  does,  at  first 
sight,  appear  startling.  A correspondent  informed  me  that  he 
had  last  season,  and  one  considered  a bad  one  for  bees,  taken 
102  lbs.  of  honey  from  two  sets  of  boxes,  and  that  he  might 
have  taken,  perhaps,  10  lbs.  more,  without  impoverishing  the 
bees.  The  writer  on  Bees  in  the  “ Naturalists’  Library,”  details 
the  quantity  taken  from  cottage  hives  in  one  season  at  about  10 
lbs.  from  each  hive.  This  is  a very  low  average,  however,  and 
it  has  reference  to  a single  deprivation  only,  as  well  as  to  a very 
imperfect  description  of  hive.  It  is  not  my  intention  to  exhibit 
the  advantages  of  keeping  bees  on  old  and  erroneous,  and,  I 


8 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


wish  I could  add,  exploded  systems  of  management  but  to  show 
what  can  be  done,  if  done  correctly.  I shall  say  nothing,  there- 
fore, as  to  what  may  be  done  with  the  common  old  hives,  as  I 
regard  keeping  bees  in  them,  when  more  fitting  ones  may  so 
easily  be  procured,  as  evincing  something  very  like  a self-willed 
determination  not  to  make  profit.  Bee-keeping,  when  conducted 
on  a proper  principle,  will  form  no  mean  item  in  the  domestic 
economy  of  the  extensive  agriculturist ; while  to  the  humble 
cottier  it  will  prove  a little  fortune,  and  furnish  the  means  of 
effectually  and  permanently  bettering  his  condition.  I would 
say  that  a single  set  of  collateral  boxes,  so  simple  in  its  con- 
struction, and  composed  of  such  inexpensive  materials  that  any 
one  could  make  them,  ought  to  yield  a profit  at  least  sufficient  to 
pay  the  rent  of  from  five  to  ten  acres  of  land,  by  no  means  a 
despicable  holding,  and  one  which,  in  its  turn,  will  become  a 
source  of  comfort,  of  independence,  of  social,  and  consequently, 
of  course,  of  national  amelioration. 

The  importance  of  honey  both  as  an  article  of  food  and  a 
valuable  medicament,  would  appear  to  have  been  known  to  the 
ancients  from  the  very  earliest  times.  “ The  land  of  promise,” 
to  reach  which  the  Israelites  journeyed  in  protracted  pilgrimage 
across  an  arid  desert  for  a period  of  forty  years,  was  described 
as  “ a land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey  while  numerous  pas- 
sages throughout  the  sacred  volume  furnish  evidence  of  the 
attention  devoted  by  the  ancient  fathers  of  the  Jewish  people  to 
the  habits  of  the  Bee  itself,  and  the  degree  of  acquaintance  with 
that  insect  at  which  they  had  arrived.  We  are  also  told  that 
several  of  the  enlightened  sages  of  ancient  Greece  deemed  this 
subject  worthy  years  of  diligent  investigation.  Pliny  informs  us 
that  Aristomachus  made  bees  his  whole  study  for  a period  of 
fifty-eight  years. 

Philiscus  retired  into  desert  places  for  the  purpose  of  keeping 
and  contemplating  them. 

Aristotle,  also,  wrote  much  concerning  bees,  proving  himself 
intimately  acquainted  with  the  subject,  and  his  observations  were 
subsequently  confirmed  and  enlarged  upon  by  Pliny.  Aristotle’s 
observations  furnished  the  Mantuan  bard,  Virgil,  with  the  ground- 
work of  his  very  beautiful,  and  in  many  respects  faithful  descrip- 
tions of  these  insects,  and  their  management.  We  have  since 
them  Columella  and  others,  and  in  more  modern  times  an  actual 
host  01  writers,  amongst  whom  I may  mention  Prince  Frederick 


THE  HONEY-BEE  AND  ITS  THREE  CLASSES. 


9 


Ceci,  Swammerdam,  Boerhave,  Wildman,  Reaumur,  Huber, 
Huish,  Nutt,  Cotton,  Briggs,  with  a host  of  other  and  eminent 
names,  to  many  of.  whom,  but  to  Mr.  Briggs  in  particular,  I have 
to  acknowledge  myself  indebted,  for.  some  of  the  suggestions 
conveyed  in  the  course  of  these  pages,  which  it  is  to  be  hoped 
may  prove  as  useful  as  it  is  my  earnest  desire  they  should,  and  I 
sincerely  trust  that  no  obstinate  attachment  to  old  usages,  or  dis- 
like to  encounter  the  very  trifling  degree  of  trouble  consequent 
on  a change  of  management,  will  prevent  their  being,  at  all  events, 
taken  into  consideration. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  HONEY-BEE  AND  ITS  THREE  CLASSES. 

The  Honey-bee  belongs  to  the  social  family  of  the  Apidse  (from 
Apis,  the  Latin  for  bee),  to  the  order,  fifth  of  insecta,  termed 
Hymenoptera,  and  including  all  insects  possessing  four  mem- 
branaceous, gauze-like  wings,  of  unequal  sizes,  furnished  also 
with  a sting,  or  process  at  the  extremity  of  the  tail,  resembling 
one.  The  interesting  family  of  bees  now  under  consideration,  is 
known  peculiarly  as  the  Apis  Mellifica,  Honey-making  or  Honey- 
bee— not  that  this  species  alone  makes  honey,  but  that  it  is  the 
one  so  long  known  to  man,  and  which  has  so  long  yielded  to  him 
its  rich  store  of  sweets. 

Of  the  family  of  the  Honey-bee  there  are  two  varieties  to  be 
met  with  in  Europe — one  inhabiting  the  north,  and  the  other  the 
south  ; the  principal  difference,  however,  would  appear  to  consist 
in  color,  the  southern  bee  having  the  rings  encircling  his  body  of 
a deeper  red  color  ; the  description,  consequently,  of  the  common 
Hive-bee  of  the  British  Islands  will  apply,  sufficiently  for  every 
practical  purpose,  to  both  insects. 

The  number  of  bees  contained  in  a hive  will,  of  course,  vary 
with  their  condition,  and  the  amount  of  accommodation  they 
possess  : whatever,  however,  be  their  numbers,  their  occupations 
are  alike,  and  are  similarly  distributed  amongst  the  three  classes 
composing  the  inmates  of  the  hive.  These  classes  are,  first,  the 
Queen-bee,  the  sovereign  of  the  community,  and  literally,  the 
prolific  parent  of  her  subjects.  The  Queen -bee  reigns  alone ; 
\* 


the  hive  and  the  honey-bee. 

but  one  of  her  sex  is  permitted  to  exist  in  a hive  at  the  onetime, 
and  to  her  protection  and  comfort  are  the 
energies  of  the  other  bees  to  be  directed. 
The  Queen-bee  may  be  recognized  by  her 
greater  length  of  body,  which  is  of  a 
blaokish  color  above,  and  of  a yellowish 
tint  beneath.  She  is  usually,  but  not  by 
any  means  invariably,  of  a larger  size  than 
either  of  the  other  classes ; her  abdomen 
contains  two  ovaries,  or  receptacles  for  eggs ; and  her  sting  is  of 
a curved  form.  The  Queen-bee  commences  depositing  her  eggs 
when  about  five  days  old  ; during  the  heat  of  the  season  she  lays 
from  150  to  200  eggs  per  day,  and  lays  with  little  or  no  inter- 
mission from  early  Spring  to  the  middle  of  Autumn.  The  pro- 
gress of  her  eggs  from  their  deposition  to  maturity,  shall  be 
treated  of  elsewhere. 

The  second  class  of  bees  are  the  Drones.  These  are  bulkier 
in  the  body  than  either  the  Queen  or  the  Working-bee.  Their 
head  is  rounder,  proboscis  shorter,  eyes 
fuller,  an  additional  articulation  to  the 
antennte,  and  no  sting.  They  also  make 
more  noise  in  flying  than  the  other  bees. 
The  Drones  are  the  males  of  the  hive  ; 
by  them  the  royal  mother  is  impregnated 
and  her  eggs  fertilized.  How  or  when 
this  intercourse  takes  place  has  long  furnished  philosophers  with 
a subject  for  controversy  and  inquiry ; and  it  has  not  even  yet 
been  set  at  rest  in  such  a manner  as  to  admit  being  proved  to  a 
positive  demonstration. 

Aristotle  supposed  that  no  such  connection  took  place  ; Swam- 
merdam held  the  same  opinion,  but  imagined  that  she  required 
to  be  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Drones,  from  whose  bodies 
there  proceeded  to  her  a vivifying  aura , producing  fertilization. 

It  has  been  by  some  supposed  that  the  eggs  are  fertilized  by 
the  Drones  after  having  been  deposited.  This  cannot  be  the 
case,  as  many  accurately  instituted  experiments  satisfactorily 
prove  that  eggs  once  laid  will  progress  to  maturity,  and  prove 
fertile  in  the  absence  of  Drones. 

M.  de  Reaumur  described  passages  which  occurred  between 
the  Drones  and  the  Queen,  which  were  sufficient  to  induce  sus- 
picions at  least  of  somewhat  more  than  he  actually  witnessed, 


THE  HONEY-BEE  AND  ITS  THREE  CLASSES.  11 


but  farther,  he  never  could  ascertain.  The  passages  to  which  I 
allude  are  not  very  creditable  to  the  royal  character,  from  whom 
De  Reaumur  states  all  the  advances  came,  while  the  Drones  ap- 
peared cold,  distant,  and  to  prefer  being  let  alone,  destitute  of 
all  gallantry,  and  thoroughly  justifying  their  name. 

The  celebrated  Huber,  whose  reiterated  experiments  and 
close  observation  entitle  him  to  the  greatest  confidence,  is  of 
opinion  that  actual  intercourse  does  take  place,  not,  however, 
while  the  parties  are  in  the  hive,  but  during  their  flight  in  the 
air.  This  also  satisfactorily  explains  the  reason  why  the  number 
of  drones  in  each  hive  is  so  great,  viz.,  in  order  that  the  queen- 
bee  may  have  the  greater  likelihood  of  meeting  with  a consort 
when  on  the  wing ; it  is  also  probable  that  the  drones  perform 
some  yet  unexplained  functions  relative  to  the  young  or  larva 
The  late  Mr.  Nutt  coincided  with  Mr.  Huber  in  this  opinion 
while  at  the  same  time  he  expressed  his  conviction  that  this  will 
ever  remain  a debateable  point.  Mr.  Huber,  likewise,  was  of 
opinion  that  the  Queen,  once  impregnated,  remained  so  during 
her  life ; and  that  as  she  exists  for  some  years,  the  Drones  are 
called  into  existence  for  the  purpose  of  fecundating  the  young 
Queens,  or  supernumeraries — insects  kept  as  it  were  in  reserve — 
lest  she  which  first  comes  forth  should  prove  sterile,  or  meet 
with  any  casualty.  During  the  working  season,  especially  the 
months  of  May,  June,  and  July,  when  the  working  bees  are  con- 
tinually absent  from  the  hive,  the  presence  of  the  Drones  is  per- 
haps requisite  for  some  offices  they  may  render  the  larvae  ; but 
whether  they  are  spared  for  that  purpose,  or  are,  contrary  to 
Huber’s  opinion,  still  requisite  for  the  impregnation  of  the  Queen, 
I am  not  prepared  to  say  ; but  the  fact  remains  the  same,  that 
at  the  end  of  summer  they  are  ignominiously  expelled  the  hive, 
and  even  slain  by  the  workers,  as  if  they,  being  of  no  longer  any 
utility  to  the  community,  should  not  be  fed  from  the  store  during 
winter,  and  were  killed  to  avoid  this  unnecessary  waste.  This 
destruction  usually  takes  place  in  August  or  the  end  of  July. 

During  summer,  the  Drones  remain  dispersed  through  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  hive,  but  towards  its  close  they  assemble  to- 
gether in  companies,  as  if  preparing  for  their  impending  fate, 
which  they  await  in  patience,  or  rather,  perhaps,  in  motion- 
less lethargy.  When  the  attack  commences,  they  resist 
to  their  utmost ; from  the  number  of  their  executioners,  how- 


12 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


ever,  and  their  own  deficiency,  not  being  furnished  with  a sting, 
they  have  not  a shadow  of  chance. 

It  is,  perhaps,  unnecessary  to  observe  that  the  Drones  do  not 
work  for  the  support  of  the  hive,  but  lead  an  idle  life,  feeding 
upon  the  produce  of  others’  labor. 

We  now  come  to  the  most  interesting  inmate  of  the  hive — the 
Working-Bee. 

The  Working-bee  is  considerably  less 
than  either  the  Queen-bee  or  the  Drone. 

It  is  about  half  an  inch  in  length,  of  a 
blackish  brown  color,  covered  with  closely 
set  hairs  all  over  the  body,  which  aid  it  in 
carrying  the  farina  it  gathers  from  the 
flowers  ; and  on  the  tibia , ox  forearm,  as  it 
were,  of  the  hind  leg,  is  a cavity  of  cup- 
like form,  for  the  reception  of  the  little  kneaded  ball  of  pollen. 
It  is  the  Working-bee  which  collects  honey  and  pollen,  and 
which  forms  the  cells,  cleans  out  the  hive,  protects  the  Queen, 
looks  after  the  condition  of  the  young  brood,  destroys  or  expels 
the  Drones,  when  these  are  no  longer  necessary  to  the  well-being 
of  the  community ; who,  in  short,  performs  all  offices  connected 
with  the  hive  and  its  contents,  save  only  those  which  have  refer- 
ence to  the  reproduction  of  the  species.  The  Working-bees  are 
of  no  sex,  and  are  furnished  with  a horny  and  hollow  sting, 
through  which  poison  is  ejected  into  the  wound  it  makes  ; this 
poison  is  of  an  acrid  character,  and  of  great  power  in  its  effects, 
proving  fatal  to  any  insect,  and  instances  being  on  record  of  its 
proving  so  to  horses  and  cattle,  nay,  even  to  human  beings : 
when  human  beings,  however,  are  stung  (an  accident  that  will 
happen  very  seldom,  if  they  use  the  precautions,  in  manipulating 
with  their  bees,  that  shall  be  detailed  in  the  course  of  this 
volume),  they  can  instantaneously  obtain  relief  by  pressing  upon 
the  point  stung  with  the  tube  of  a key ; this  will  extract  the 
sting,  and  relieve  the  pain,  and  the  application  of  common  spirits 
of  hartshorn  will  instantaneously  remove  it ; the  poison  being  of 
an  acid  nature,  and  being  thus  at  once  neutralized  by  the  appli- 
cation of  this  penetrating  and  volatile  alkali. 

I may  here  describe  the  structure  of  the  bee.  The  one  descrip- 
tion answering,  with  some  exceptions,  to  be  pointed  out  as  I pro- 
ceed, for  the  three  classes — Queen — Drone — and  Workers. 

The  bee  is,  like  insects  generally  (which  derive  their  name 


THE  HONEY-BEE  AND  ITS  THREE  CLASSES. 


IS 


from  two  Latin  words,  signifying  cut  in  parts,  or  divided),  com- 
posed of  three  parts — the  head,  thorax  or  chest,  and  abdomen. 
The  shape  of  the  head  varies  somewhat,  as  also  does  its  size,  in 
the  three  classes  ; it  is  attached  to  the  thorax  by  a thin  liga- 
ment, and  the  thorax  is  attached  in  a similar  manner  to  the  ab- 
domen. In  front  of  the  head  are  two  eyes,  which  are  protected 
by  hairs  from  any  substances  that  might  otherwise  injure  them, 
and  on  the  top  of  the  head  are  three  smaller  eyes.  This  visual 
apparatus  renders  the  bee’s  power  of  sight  a very  extended  one. 
Two  feelers , or  antennae,  spring  from  between  the  front  eyes,  and 
curve  outwards  on  each  side  ; these  are  endowed  with  a very 
acute  sense  of  touch,  and  doubtless  perform  many  of  the  offices 
of  eyes  in  the  dark  recesses  of  the  hive.  It  is  probably  by  the 
assistance  of  these  delicate  and  highly  sensitive  organs  that 
these  insects  form  their  combs,  fill  their  cells,  and  feed  the 
young.  I am  of  opinion  also,  that  they  serve  as  a medium  by 
means  of  which  the  bees  convey  intelligence  to  each  other. 

The  mouth  of  the  bee  is  composed  of  a pair  of  mandibles,  or 
jaws,  which  open  vertically,  and  act  (opening  and  shutting)  to 
the  right  and  left.  These  are  furnished  with  teeth  at  their  ex- 
tremities. The  mouth  is  also  furnished  with  a very  minute 
tongue,  and  with  a long,  slender  instrument,  called  a proboscis, 
or  trunk,  resembling  in  form  and  use  that  of  the  elephant ; it  is 
composed  of  numerous  cartilaginous  rings,  fringed  with  minute 
hairs.  This  instrument  does  not,  however,  act  as  a tube,  but  by 
rolling  about  and  attaching  to  the  hairs  which  fringe  it,  whatever 
substances  the  insect  wishes  to  convey  to  the  mouth  ; from  about 
the  base  of  the  proboscis  also  arise  the  labial  feelers,  as  they  are 
called,  which  are  also  furnished  with  a hairy  fringe. 

The  bee  possesses  three  pair  of  legs,  of  which  the  posterior 
are  the  longest,  and  the  anterior  the  shortest.  These  are  formed 
and  articulated  much  like  the  same  limbs  in  man,  and  are  at- 
tached to  the  thorax ; at  their  extremities  we  find  two  little 
hooks,  which  appear  like  sickles,  or  reaping  hooks,  and  have 
their  points  opposed  to  each  other.  By  means  of  these,  the  in- 
sect suspends  itself  to  the  top  of  the  hive,  or  in  any  other  posi- 
tion it  may  desire.  I have  already  mentioned  the  basket-like 
provision  on  the  hinder  thighs  of  the  workers — it  is  peculiar  to, 
and  characteristic  of  them. 

To  the  superior  portion  of  the  thorax  are  attached  four  wings, 
consisting  of  two  pair  of  unequal  size.  These  wings  are  hooked 


14 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


together,  in  order  that  they  may  act  simultaneously,  and  not 
only  serve  to  convey  the  insects  from  place  to  place,  through 
the  air,  but  by  the  humming,  buzzing  noise  their  motion  pro- 
duces, to  give  notice  of  their  departure  from,  and  return  to,  the 
hive,  as  well  as  possibly  to  animate  their  fellows  in  their  mutual 
labors. 

Interiorly,  the  thorax  contains  the  oesophagus,  or  gullet, 
which  traverses  its  extent  on  its  way  into  the  abdomen,  where 
it  dilates  into,  first,  the  honey-bag,  which  is  furnished  with  two 
pouches  posteriorly,  and  a muscular  apparatus,  by  which  it  is 
enabled  to  give  forth  its  saccharine  contents ; and,  secondly, 
into  the  true  stomach,  in  which  digestion  goes  on  for  the  nourish- 
ment of  the  insect,  and  the  secretion  of  wax. 

Next  to  the  stomach  is  situated  the  sting : this  consists  of 
two  darts  enclosed  in  a sheath.  The  whole  apparatus  enters  the 
wound,  and  the  two  small  darts  then  enter  still  farther:  these 
are  barbed,  and,  on  the  insect  withdrawing  them,  aid  in  widen- 
ing the  puncture,  and  thus  afford  greater  room  for  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  poison.  At  the  base  of  the  sting,  the  bag  containing 
the  poison  is  placed  ; this  fluid  is,  as  already  stated,  an  acid,  but 
further  than  that  it  is  so,  has  not  been  ascertained. 

The  bee  respires  by  means  of  spiracles,  or  breathing-holes, 
situated  in  the  thorax,  beneath  and  behind  the  wings.  Through 
these,  air  is  admitted  into  the  thorax,  for  the  purpose  of  oxy- 
genating the  circulating  system : for  oxygen  is  no  less  essential 
to  the  well  being  of  the  bee — nay,  to  its  very  existence — than  it 
is  to  that  of  man.  Will  not  this  convince  every  reader  of  the 
necessity  which  exists  for  duly  ventilating  the  hives,  or  bee- 
boxes  ? an  operation  so  much  neglected,  and  yet  so  important 
a feature,  as  1 shall  show  hereafter,  in  the  proper  and  remune- 
rative management  of  these  insects. 


CHAPTER  III. 


ARCHITECTURE  OF  THE  HONEY-BEE,  AND  ECONOMY  OF  THE  HIVE. 


When  a new  swarm  of  bees  establish  themselves  in  a hive,  or 
other  receptacle,  whether  natural  or  artificial,  their  first  proceed- 
ing is  to  cleanse  the  interior  thoroughly,  and  carefully  to  stop  up 


ARCHITECTURE  AND  ECONOMY  OF  THE  HIVE.  15 

eveiy  chink  that  might  admit  the  weather : the  substance  which 
they  employ  for  the  latter  purpose,  and  which  likewise  forms  the 
basis  of  their  comb,  is  called  propolis,  and  is  quite  distinct  from 
wax.  Even  the  ancients  appear  to  have  recognized  the  distinc- 
tion between  wax  and  propolis ; for  Virgil  particularly  describes 
two  sorts  of  wax , one  of  a character  adapted  for  S7 nearing  (this 
was  the  true  wax),  the  other  for  cementing  or  glueing — this  was 
the  substance  we  now  know  as  propolis.  This  is  a resinous  sub- 
stance of  a greyish-brown  color,  and  aromatic  odor,  and  possessed 
of  singular  tenacity.  Huber  first  showed  that  the  bees  collect 
this  substance  from  the  alder,  birch,  and  willow  trees,  but  espe- 
cially from  the  poplar.  A small  filmy  thread  of  the  viscous  pro- 
duce of  the  tree  is  drawn  off  by  the  bee,  and  carefully  kneaded 
into  a ball  by  the  action  of  the  mandibles,  after  which  it  is  secured 
in  the  basket  which  I have  described  as  existing  on  the  hinder 
legs  : so  tenacious  is  this  substance,  that  on  the  laden  bee’s  arriv- 
ing at  the  hive,  it  requires  the  united  efforts  of  many  bees  to  dis- 
engage the  load  from  the  receptacle  in  which  it  has  been  placed ; 
it  also  rapidly  hardens  ; the  bees,  therefore,  use  it  at  once  while 
it  is  yet  fresh  and  plastic.  It  is  with  this  substance,  also,  that 
the  hive  is  attached  to  the  stand  on  which  it  is  placed,  and  with 
which  the  bees  attach  the  comb  to  the  hive : it  is,  however,  of 
wax  that  the  cells  are  formed. 

To  Huber  we  are  indebted  for  having  been  the  first  to  commu- 
nicate to  the  world  the  mode  in  which  the  cells  are  commenced. 
He  compelled  the  bees  to  build  upwards , instead  of  allowing 
them  to  begin  in  the  ordinary  manner  from  above,  downwards, 
and  thus  avoided  the  concealment  of  their  work,  attendant  on 
their  usual  suspension  from  the  top  of  the  hive.  A glass  window 
did  the  rest. 

Mr.  Huber’s  discoveries  are  astonishing  and  interesting  in  the 
extreme.  The  combs  formed  by  the  bee,  -when  permitted  to 
follow  its  natural  instinct,  are  commenced  from  the  top  of  the  hive, 
and  consist  of  parallel  plates  of  comb,  having  cells  on  both  sides, 
the  one  base,  therefore,  serving  for  both,  which  effects  a great  sav- 
ing of  material.  The  form  of  each  cell  is  hexagonal,  having  six 
equal  sides,  with  the  exception  of  the  uppermost  row,  the  shape 
of  which  is  an  irregular  pentagon. 

Here  we  must  pause  for  a moment  to  wonder  and  admire — to 
admire  the  extraordinary  instinct  the  Almighty  has  implanted  in 
the  bodies  of  these  little  insects.  The  chief  requisites  to  be  looked 


10 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


for  in  constructing  the  cells,  would  naturally  be,  economy  of  ma- 
terials, of  room,  of  labor,  and  the  greatest  possible  quantity  of 
internal  space.  M.  De  Reaumur  employed  the  celebrated  mathe- 
matician, Koenig,  pupil  of  the  no  less  celebrated  Bernouilli,  to 
ascertain  what  the  measurement  of  the  angles  composing  these 
prisms  should  be,  in  order  to  obtain  the  above  requisites ; and 
the  result  of  his  calculations  showed  the  exquisite  nicety  with 
which  instinct  enabled  the  bees  to  work.  I shall  explain  in  the 
words  of  Dr.  Bevan  : — 

“ The  partition  which  separates  the  two  opposing  rows  of  cells, 
and  which  occupies,  of  course,  the  middle  distance  between  their 
two  surfaces,  is  not  a plane,  but  a collection  of  rhombs,  there 
being  three  at  the  bottom  of  each  cell ; the  three  together  form 
in  shape  a flattened  pyramid,  the  basis  of  which  is  turned  towards 
the  mouth  of  the  cell ; each  cell  is  in  form,  therefore,  a hexagonal 
prism,  terminated  by  a flattened  trihedral  pyramid,  the  three  sides 
of  which  pyramid  are  rhombs,  that  meet  at  the  apex  by  their 
obtuse  angles. 

“ The  union  of  the  lozenges  in  one  point,  in  addition  to  the 
support  which  it  is  the  means  of  affording  to  the  three  partitions 
between  opposing  cells,  is  also  admirably  adapted  to  receive  the 
little  egg,  and  to  concentrate  the  heat  necessary  for  its  incubation. 
Each  obtuse  angle  of  the  lozenge  or  rhombs  forms  an  angle  of 
110  degrees,  and  each  acute  one  an  angle  of  about  70  degrees. 
M.  Maraldi  found,  by  mensuration,  that  the  angles  of  these  rhombs, 
which  compose  the  base  of  a cell,  amounted  to  109  degrees  and 
28  seconds,  and  70  degrees  and  32  seconds;  and  the  famous 
mathematician,  Koenig,  pupil  of  the  celebrated  Bernouilli,  having 
been  employed  for  that  purpose  by  M.  Reaumur,  has  clearly 
shown,  by  the  method  of  infinitesimals,  that  the  quantity  of  these 
angles,  using  the  least  possible  wax,  in  the  cell  of  the  same  ca- 
pacity, should  contain  109  degrees  26  seconds,  and  70  degrees 
and  24  seconds.  This  was  confirmed  by  the  celebrated  Mr.  Mac 
Lauren,  who  very  justly  observes,  that  bees  do  truly  construct 
their  cells  of  the  best  figure,  and  with  the  utmost  mathematical 
exactness.”  It  will  be  seen,  then,  that,  in  their  architecture,  the 
bees  obtain  the  requisites  which  I above  enumerated. 

Perhaps  the  following  is  the  most  wonderful  of  Huber’s  dis- 
coveries : The  design  of  every  comb  is  sketched  out,  and  the  rudi- 
ments laid  by  one  single  bee,  who  forms  a block  from  a rough  mass 
of  wax,  from  materials  furnished  him  by  hosts  of  industrious 


ARCHITECTURE  AND  ECONOMY  OF  THE  HIVE.  17 


workmen  ; determines  the  relative  position  of  the  combs,  and 
their  distances  from  each  other ; attaches  the  blocks  to  the  hives, 
and  then  leaves  his  inferior  architects  to  go  to  work,  and  form  the 
cells.  One  bee  does  not  complete  any  cell ; but  these  insects  re- 
lieve each  other  in  succession,  to  the  number  of  from  fifteen  to 
twenty,  until  the  last  finishing  polish  is  given  to  the  work.  The 
cells  designed  for  the  drones  are  built  with  due  reference  to  their 
superior  size,  and  are  usually  near  the  bottom  of  the  combs. 
The  royal  cells  are  built  last,  are  usually  from  five  to  ten  in  num- 
ber, and  placed  near  the  centre  of  the  hive : these  are  designed 
as  receptacles  for  the  infant  queens.  I should  not  omit  observing, 
that,  while  one  set  of  workers  are  forming  the  comb  and  cells, 
another  set  are  busy  flying  to  and  fro,  collecting  materials,  and 
bringing  them  to  the  hives.  Nor  do  they  furnish  their  architec- 
tural brethren  with  materials  only  ; they  supply  them  with  food 
also,  and  with  the  sweets  from  which  they  likewise  elaborate  wax 
in  their  interior. 

The  royal  cells  differ  in  form  and  dimensions  from  the  others. 
They  are  much  larger ; more  wax  is  expended  on  their  formation  ; 
their  form  is  not  hexagonal,  but  an  oblong  spheroid ; the  mouth, 
which  is  at  bottom,  is  left  open  until  the  grub  is  ready  to  undergo 
its  transformations,  when  it  is  closed  like  the  rest ; and  imme- 
diately on  a perfected  queen  emerging  from  her  cradle,  it  is  de- 
stroyed, and  its  site  built  upon  with  common  cells.  Nor  are  the 
royal  cells  built  in  among  the  other  cells,  but  attached  to  them 
externally,  suspended  perpendicularly,  with  their  sides  parallel  to 
the  orifices  of  the  common  cells. 

The  bees  occasionally  depart  from  the  regular  form  of  their 
cells,  and  in  doing  so  exhibit  something  so  nearly  resembling  de- 
sign as  to  become  absolutely  startling  to  the  observer.  These 
deviations  appear  when,  after  having  formed  a number  of  small 
cells,  the  bees  wish  to  form  larger  ones — they  may  be  termed 
cells  of  transition  ; their  bases  are  composed  of  two  rhombs  and 
two  hexagons,  instead  of  three.  Reaumur  and  others  have  re- 
garded this  departure  from  regularity  as  a proof  of  imperfection. 
Dr.  Bevan  justly  looks  upon  it  as  “ determined  by  a sufficient 
motive,”  and  forming  “ no  impeachment  of  the  sagacity  of  the 
bee.” 

The  cells  are  by  no  means  used  indiscriminately  for  all  the  pur- 
poses of  the  hive  : there  are,  on  the  contrary,  as  I have  shown, 
cells  peculiar  to  the  royal  brood  • there  are  also  cells  peculiarly 


18 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


kept  for  the  young  workers,  and  others  for  the  young  drones — 
these  latter  are  much  less  numerous  than  those  of  the  former : 
there  are  likewise  cells  reserved  for  containing  honey.  It  is  true 
that,  when  the  breeding  season  terminates,  the  cells  of  the  drones 
and  workers  are  generally  well  cleansed  out,  and  these  also  em- 
ployed as  receptacles  for  honey,  but  the  honey  preserved  in  them 
is  never  so  pure  or  fine  in  quality  as  that  which  has  been  kept  in 
its  own  peculiar  storehouses  : some  of  the  cells  are  also  kept 
apart  for  holding  pollen ; these  are  of  large  size.  Pollen  is  not, 
as  Reaumur  erroneously  conceived,  the  sole  substance  on  which 
depends  the  formation  of  wax — if,  indeed,  it  have  anything  at  all 
to  do  with  that  process.  It  is  eaten  by  the  bees,  forms  a large 
portion  of  the  food  for  the  young,  and  may  possibly  thus  lend  its 
quota  of  assistance  to  the  general  elaboration. 

To  give  some  idea  of  the  extreme  thinness  of  the  walls  of  the 
cells,  I may  mention  that  two  of  them  laid  together  are  not  equal 
in  thickness  to  a leaf  of  ordinary  letter-paper ; yet  not  only  are 
they  first  formed,  independent  and  sufficiently  strong,  of  wax 
alone,  with  a basis  of  propolis,  but  are  likewise  subsequently  coated 
over  with  a mixture  of  propolis  and  wax.  The  soldering  at  the 
orifice  of  each  cell  is  formed  with  a large  proportion  of  propolis  ; 
according  as  each  cell  is  filled  with  its  appropriate  contents,  it  is 
carefully  covered  in. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

GENERATION  OF  THE  HONEY-BEE. 

As  soon  as  the  severity  of  winter  has  passed  away,  and  the 
genial  influences  of  spring  have  begun  to  be  felt,  the  queen-bee 
commences  laying  ; and  a hive,  however  it  may  have  lost  in  num- 
ber during  winter,  will  by  the  middle  of  summer  be  crowded  to 
excess,  and,  unless  properly  managed,  throw  off  a swarm.  The 
queen  continues  to  lay  until  about  September,  and  as  she  is  calcu- 
lated to  deposit  nearly  200  eggs  per  day,  my  readers  may  form 
some  idea  of  the  prodigious  number  she  deposits  in  an  entire  sea- 
son. This  has  by  many  authors  been  calculated  at  from  8,000 
to  10,000,  which  I think  much  under  the  mark. 

Wherever  the  queen-bee  moves,  she  is  attended  by  ten  or  a 


GENERATION  OF  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


19 


dozen  workers,  who  watch  her  every  motion  apparently  with  the 
utmost  attention  Previous  to  depositing  the  egg,  the  queen  puts 
her  head  into  the  cell  for  a moment,  as  if  to  ascertain  its  empti- 
ness and  fitness  otherwise  to  receive  its  charge.  If  she  find 
everything  satisfactory,  she  then  turns  round,  introduces  her  pos- 
terior extremity  until  it  almost  touches  the  bottom  of  the  cell, 
and  lays  the  eggs.  Mr.  Wildman  says,  that  while  thus  occupied, 
the  attendant  bees,  surrounding  her  in  a circle,  perform  a sort  of 
obeisance,  and  caress  her  with  their  feet  and  trunks.  I am  dis- 
posed to  think  this  a little  fanciful ; I have  never  witnessed  any 
such  demonstration  myself,  but  it  is  possible  that  my  observation 
may  have  been  defective.  When  she  has  deposited  one  egg,  she 
goes  on  to  another  cell,  and  so  on,  and  after  laying  about  ten 
eggs  in  succession,  she  retires  for  awhile,  and  then  resumes  her 
prolific  employment.  The  egg  remains  without  undergoing  any 
apparent  change  for  about  four  days,  when  it  gradually  assumes 
the  form  and  aspect  of  a little  maggot,  changing  in  the  same 
manner  as  the  caterpillar.  This  little  maggot  is  nourished  by 
the  bees  until  the  eighth  day,  by  which  time  it  has  grown  so 
much  as  to  occupy  the  whole  cell,  when  they  close  up  the  cell, 
and  imprison  its  inmate  for  about  twelve  days  more,  din  ing  which 
time  it  undergoes  gradual  transformation  until  it  becomes  a 
nymph  or  aurelia,  presenting  the  appearance  of  a perfect  fly, 
except  in  being  soft  and  white  in  color. 

The  white  pellicle  which  envelopes  the  nymph  now  gradually 
strips  off,  and  about  the  twentieth  day  the  perfect  fly  is  ready  to 
attempt  extricating  itself  from  its  confinement.  This  object  she 
speedily  attains  by  cutting  round  the  cover  with  her  mandibles. 

On  first  emerging  from  the  cell,  the  young  bee  appears  weak 
and  lethargic,  doubtless  from  the  novelty  of  its  situation  and  the 
effects  of  the  new  medium  by  which  it  is  surrounded.  It  soon, 
however,  acquires  vigor,  and  the  very  first  day  of  its  entrance 
into  the  world  it  may  be  seen  returning  from  the  fields,  emulating 
its  elder  born  comrades  in  the  richness  and  quantity  of  the  sweet 
burden  with  which  it  is  laden. 

As  soon  as  the  young  bee  has  left  the  cell,  two  workers  come 
to  it,  one  of  which  draws  out  and  works  up  the  wax  of  which  it 
was  composed,  while  the  other  repairs  it,  restores  its  symmetry, 
and  cleans  out  its  interior.  Sometimes  new  eggs  are  deposited 
vn  these  cells  the  same  day,  and  sometimes  they  are  filled  with 


20 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


honey  or  farina.  When  five  days  old,  the  young  bee,  if  a queen, 
is  ready  to  commence  the  office  of  a mother. 

In  the  event  of  the  eggs  being  designed  to  produce  drones; 
their  changes  present  precisely  the  same  phenomena  as  in  the 
case  of  workers,  except  that  they  take  more  time,  requiring 
twenty-four  days  for  the  change.  Huber  states  that  the  eggs  of 
the  males  require  eleven  months  to  be  perfected  in  the  ovaria  of 
the  queen,  and  assigns  this  as  a reason  why  the  eggs  of  wrorkers 
continue  to  be  deposited  for  eleven  months  before  the  queen 
commences  depositing  those  of  Drones.  There  are,  however, 
some  facts  which  at  least  throw  some  doubt  on  this  suggestion  ; 
among  others,  that  if  a young  queen  be  not  impregnated  within 
twenty  days  after  her  emergence  frcm  the  cell,  all  her  subse- 
quent progeny  will  be  drones,  and  drones  only.  I am  not  aware 
that  any  naturalist  has  yet  attempted  an  explanation  of  this  very 
remarkable  fact.  The  eggs  of  the  queen  differ  in  no  respects, 
when  laid,  from  those  of  workers  or  drones,  but  they  are  deposit- 
ed in  peculiarly  formed  cells,  already  described  ; but  when  the 
larva  appears  on  the  fourth  day,  and  from  that  time,  extraordi- 
nary attention  is  bestowed  upon  it,  and  it  is  fed  upon  a peculiar 
substance,  a sort  of  rich  jelly  of  an  acid  character.  In  five  days 
the  royal  larva  commences  forming  her  web,  and  the  nurses  close 
up  her  cell.  In  four  and  twenty  hours  she  has  completed  her 
cocoon,  in  which  state  she  remains  for  nearly  three  days.  She  is 
then  pupa  aurelia  or  nympli,  and  after  five  or  six  days  more  the 
royal  insect  is  perfect.  The  young  queen  does  not,  however, 
like  the  other  bees,  begin  at  once  to  extricate  herself  from  her 
cradle ; her  cell  is,  on  the  other  hand,  now  more  securely  fasten- 
ed than  ever.  But  one  reigning  monarch  is  permitted  to  exist  in 
the  hive,  and  it  is  only  in  the  event  of  the  old  queen  dying,  or 
issuing  forth  with  a swarm,  that  the  young  aspirant  to  the  throne 
is  discharged  from  captivity.  So  strong  is  the  instinct  which 
prompts  the  bees  to  permit  but  the  presence  of  a single  sovereign 
in  each  hive,  that  the  old  queen  makes  frequent  attempts  to  get 
at  the  royal  cells ; if  she  succeed  in  doing  so,  she  will  rend  them 
open,  and  furiously  destroy  their  contents  ; and  the  moment  a 
young  queen  is  suffered  to  depart  from  her  cell,  her  very  first 
act  is  to  destroy  her  yet  unreleased,  and  often  undeveloped, 
royal  sisters.  It  occasionally  happens  that  two  queens  emerge 
at  the  same  time  ; when  this  occurs  a mortal  combat  ensues, 
which  only  terminates  in  the  death  of  one  of  the  combatants — 


GENERATION  OF  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


21 


the  workers  meanwhile  looking  quietly  on,  not  only  not  interfer- 
ing to  put  a stop  to  the  conflict,  but  actually,  should  one  or  both 
appear  anxious  to  give  up  the  struggle,  hemming  them  round, 
and  will  permit  of  no  compromise,  but  compel  the  rivals  to  bring 
the  affair  to  a deadly  issue.  It  very  rarely  happens  that  tooth 
queens  perish  in  the  encounter,  for  such  is  their  instinctive  dread 
of  leaving  the  community  unprovided  with  a sovereign,  that 
should  they,  in  the  engagement,  get  into  such  a position  in  refer- 
ence to  each  other,  as  would  permit  of  mutually  plunging  their 
stings  into  each  other’s  bellies,  the  only  point  where  they  are 
vulnerable,  they  hastily  disengage,  and  do  not  use  their  stings  un- 
less when  one  queen  can  take  the  other  at  a disadvantage. 
Even,  however,  should  such  a casualty  occur  as  the  death  of  both 
queens,  or  should  any  other  accident  occasion  a hive  to  be  de- 
prived of  its  queen,  the  bees  possess  a most  wonderful  power  of 
supplying  the  deficiency. 

The  bees  do  not  at  once  discover  the  loss  of  their  queen,  but 
when  they  do,  all  is  tumult  and  confusion,  these  insects  humming 
loudly,  and  hurrying  hither  and  thither  over  the  combs  in  a state 
of  apparent  distraction.  If  there  be  any  royal  nymphs  ready  to 
be  released,  one  is  at  once  set  free — if  only  royal  larvae  exist, 
their  attention  is  at  once  devoted  to  them  ; but  now  comes  the 
wonderful  portion  of  the  matter.  If  the  bees  possess  only  the 
larvae  of  working  bees  they  at  once  enlarge  their  cells,  converting 
them  into  royal  cradles,  for  which  purpose  they  pull  to  pieces 
whatever  cells  are  in  the  way,  unhesitatingly  sacrificing  life  after 
life  to  the  great  end  they  have  in  view  : these  larva?,  by  peculiar 
feeding,  become  converted  into  queens.  It  was  that  close  ob- 
server, Schirach,  who  first  made  this  singular  discovery,  the 
truth  of  which  was  subsequently  confirmed  by  Huber  I quote 
his  account : “ I put  some  pieces  of  comb,  containing  worker’s 
eggs  in  the  cells,  of  the  same  kind  as  those  already  hatched, 
into  a hive  deprived  of  the  queen.  The  same  day  several  cells 
were  enlarged  by  the  bees,  and  converted  into  royal  cells,  and 
the  worms  supplied  with  a thick  bed  of  jelly.  Five  were  then 
removed  from  these  cells,  and  five  common  worms,  which,  forty- 
eight  hours  before,  we  had  seen  come  from  the  egg,  substituted 
for  them.  The  bees  did  not  seem  aware  of  the  change  ; they 
watched  over  the  new  worms  the  same  as  over  those  chosen  by 
themselves ; they  continued  enlarging  the  cells,  and  closed  them 
at  the  usual  time.  When  they  had  hatched  them  seven  days, 


22 


THE  HIVE  A-ND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


we  removed  the  cells  to  see  the  queens  that  were  to  be  produc- 
ed. Two  were  excluded,  almost  at  the  same  moment,  of  the 
largest  size,  and  well  formed  in  every  respect.  The  term  of  the 
other  cells  having  elapsed,  and  no  queen  appearing,  we  opened 
them.  In  one  was  a dead  queen,  but  still  a nymph  ; the  other 
two  were  empty.  The  worms  had  spun  their  silk  cocoons,  but 
died  before  passing  into  their  nymphine  state,  and  presented 
only  a dry  skin.  I can  conceive  nothing  more  conclusive  than 
this  experiment.  It  demonstrates  that  bees  have  the  power  of 
converting  the  worms  of  workers  into  queens,  since  they  succeed- 
ed in  procuring  queens  by  operating  on  the  worms  which  we 
ourselves  had  selected.” 

Huber  likewise  proved  by  experiment  that  the  working-bees 
occasionally  become  endued  with  fertility,  this  taking  place  only 
in  hives  which  have  been  deprived  of  their  queen,  and  altogether 
he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  a development  of  the  ovaries  can 
be  given  to  any  bees  by  feeding  them  on  the  royal  food,  a won- 
derful provision,  by  which  nature  has  secured  the  industrious  in- 
habitants of  the  hive  from  the  effects  of  unexpected  contingen- 
cies, which  would  otherwise  be  attended  with  disastrous  results. 

“ When  bees,”  says  Huber,  “ give  the  royal  treatment  to  cer- 
tain worms,  they,  either  by  accident,  or  by  a peculiar  instinct,  the 
principle  of  which  is  unknown  to  me,  drop  some  particles  of 
royal  jelly  into  cells  contiguous  to  those  containing  the  worms 
destined  for  queens.” 

It  will  occasionally  happen,  however,  that  a queen  is  lost  when 
no  eggs  of  any  kind  in  a fit  state  of  transformation  exist  in  the 
hive.  When  such  is  the  case,  the  bees  discontinue  the  collection 
of  honey ; live  riotously  on  whatever  is  left  in  the  hive,  while 
that  lasts ; fly  about  with  no  apparent  object,  and  soon  either 
perish  or  seek  a home  elsewhere.  If,  however,  they  be  supplied 
with  a new  queen,  they  revive ; but  if  they  appear  much  reduced 
in  numbers,  it  is  better  to  join  them  to  another  stock. 

It  has  been  suggested  that  this  power  possessed  by  bees  of 
manufacturing  queens  in  cases  of  necessity,  might  be  taken  ad- 
vantage of  for  the  purpose  of  forming  artificial  stocks.  I do  not, 
however,  see  either  the  necessity  or  utility  of  so  doing.  One 
strong  stock  is  ever  worth  three  weak  ones  ; and  union  not  scat- 
tering— giving  the  bees  plenty  of  house-room,  according  as  they 
may  require  it,  instead  of  partitioning  them  into  insignificant  and 
feeble  colonies,  is  .1'  3 only  line  of  conduct  towards  them  that 


POSITION  OF  THE  APIARY. 


23 


may  be  expected  to  keep  the  hive  wealthy,  and  consequently 
bring  profit  to  its  human  proprietor. 


CHAPTER  V 

POSITION  OF  THE  APIARY. 

The  most  favorable  aspect  for  your  hives  or  boxes  is  south- 
westerly ; but  if  you  can  so  contrive  as  to  reserve  to  yourself  a 
power  of  modifying  this  aspect  with  the  season,  so  much  the 
better.  In  spring,  for  instance,  the  aspect  would  be  improved 
by  inclining  more  to  the  west ; in  autumn  the  reverse.  My  rea- 
son for  this  recommendation  is,  that  the  morning  sun  is  prejudi- 
cial to  the  interests  of  the  hive,  not  from  any  inherent  bad  qua- 
lity in  its  rays,  but  because  when  the  bees  are  so  placed  as  to 
receive  the  early  light,  they  are  tempted  forth  too  early — an 
event  objectionable  on  two  accounts  ; first,  that,  especially  in 
early  spring,  the  dawn  is  too  cold,  and  will  occasion  the  death  of 
numbers  if  they  are  induced  to  venture  forth  ; and  secondly,  be- 
cause the  bees,  if  they  commence  operations  so  early,  become 
wearied  before  they  have  performed  a good  day’s  work,  and  the 
afternoon  is  a more  advantageous  period  for  their  labors.  I shall 
afterwards  treat  of  “ shifting ” — a subject  which  has  produced 
considerable  controversy  among  bee-fanciers. 

The  place  where  you  intend  to  fix  your  stand  must  be  a dry 
soil — if  sandy,  so  much  the  better.  It  should  slope  towards  the 
front,  in  order  to  carry  off  the  surface  water  produced  by  occa- 
sional rains,  and  should  not,  on  any  account,  be  exposed'  to  the 
droppings  from  the  eaves  of  houses,  or  even  hedges.  Shelter  is 
essential,  especially  behind,  and  on  the  east  of  the  hives,  a house 
or  high  wall  is  the  best  you  can  procure  ; and  I am  also  an  advo- 
cate for  the  stand  being  placed  in  a sort  of  small,  open  shed,  well 
painted  on  the  outside  to  protect  it  from  the  weather ; a few 
shrubs  planted  about  the  stand  are  also  good  as  additional  shel- 
ter. Some  recommend  high  trees  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  the 
air  calm,  lest  the  bees  should  be  blown  down  when  returning 
home.  High  trees  are  not  advisable  ; they  form  an  evil  them- 
selves of  greater  magnitude  than  that  which  they  may  be  de- 
signed to  remove.  Bees  are  seldom  blown  to  the  ground  by  mere 


24 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


wind  ; but  even  when  they  are,  they  can,  in  a greslt  majority  of 
cases,  recover  themselves.  Whereas,  if  blown  amongst  ‘rees, 
they  w ill  be  sure  to  be  whipped  so  violently  by  the  branches, 
that  they  are  absolutely  hurled  to  the  ground  with  such  force  as 
to  render  their  recovery  hopeless.  The  bees  also  fly  low  on  their 
return,  when  they  arrive  at  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  their 
stand,  and,  consequently,  high  trees  would  be  not  only  useless, 
but  absolutely  inconvenient.  Whatever  trees  you  wish,  therefore, 
to  plant  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  hive  should  be  of  low 
size.  Wildman  recommends  them — and  I think  very  judiciously 
— to  be  "‘of  the  dwarf  kind,  with  bushy  heads,  in  order  that  the 
swarms  which  settle  on  them  may  be  more  easily  hived.”  Now 
although  by  judicious  management  swarming  will  generally  be 
prevented  from  taking  place,  yet  despite  of  our  utmost  care  it 
may  accidentally  occur ; or  the  bees  may  quit  their  boxes  in  a 
body,  from  various  causes — some  of  which  I shall  endeavor  here- 
after to  explain — and  under  such  circumstances,  Mr.  Wildman’s 
suggestions  will  be  found  valuable.  The  garden,  therefore,  in 
which  you  fix  your  stands  should  be  thus  planted  ; and  I further, 
for  the  same  reasons,  recommend  wall  fruit  trees  and  espaliers. 

Avoid  a site  near  mills  or  other  noisy  places,  or  the  neighbor- 
hood of  bad  smells,  as  factories  and  the  like  ; and  if,  as  occasion- 
ally may  happen,  your  stand  be  placed  against  your  garden  wall, 
behind  which  is  the  farm-yard,  let  not  a dunghill  be  built  against 
the  opposite  side.  I have  witnessed  this  before  now,  and  in  one 
instance  found  the  consequence  to  be  a desertion  of  the  boxes. 
Do  not  place  your  stand  where  you  see  rat  or  mouse  holes,  and 
let  your  shed  be  all  of  wood , never  thatched  with  straw,  as  that  sub- 
stance harbors  mice,  moths,  and  other  similar  enemies  to  your  stock. 

Water  is  essential  to  the  well-being  of  your  bees  ; it  must, 
however,  be  presented  to  them  judiciously,  or  it  will  prove  sC 
greater  evil  than  a good.  If  you  can  coax  a shallow  rippling 
brook  through  your  garden,  so  much  the  better ; if  not,  place 
near  the  stand,  small,  shallow,  earthen  pans  of  water,  and 
put  some  pebbles  in  them.  This  water  must  be  changed 
daily.  It  is  highly  objectionable  to  have  a pond  or  canal 
iu  your  neighborhood : you  will  lose  thousands  of  your  bees 
through  their  means  every  season,  as  they  will  be  constantly 
blown  into  them  when  returning  heavily  laden  to  the  hive,  es- 
pecially in  the  evening,  when  wearied  after  the  toil  of  an  indus- 
triously-spent day.  The  pebbles  in  the  trough  are  for  the  bees 


POSITION  OF  THE  APIARY. 


26 


to  rest  on  while  drinking,  and  are  the  recommendation  of  Colu- 
mella. I have  seen  tin  plates  perforated  with  holes,  and  placed 
over  the  pans,  just  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  used  for  drinking- 
vessels  for  bees  ; I,  however,  prefer  the  pebbles. 

It  is  essential  that  you  have  your  gardens  abundantly  planted 
with  such  shrubs  and  flowers  as  afford  honey,  in  order,  as  much 
as  possible,  to  prevent  the  necessity  of  your  bees  constantly 
traveling  td*an  inconvenient  distance  in  search  of  food.  It  will 
be  as  well  also  that  you  contrive  to  have  a succession  of  such 
food,  adapted  to  the  season,  a matter  comparatively  easily  man- 
aged and  of  very  great  consequence  to  the  wrell-being  of  your 
stock.  Among  these  plants  1 may  enumerate  broom ; furze  or 
gorse  ; thyme,  especially  lemon  thyme  ; clover  ; crocus  ; heaths  ; 
fruit-trees  ; mustard  ; mignionette  ; sage ; single  roses  ; radish- 
es ; primroses  ; privet ; parsley  ; pease  and  parsnips  ; marigolds  ; 
violets  ; lily  ; laurustinum  ; daffodils  ; celery  ; cauliflower  ; as- 
paragus ; sunflowers,  &c.  Mr.  Nutt  has  given  a very  copious  list 
of  bee  flowers  in  his  work  on  bees,  but  I think  many  of  them 
might  be  omitted  without  any  loss.  Mr.  Briggs,  a most  enthusi- 
astic bee-fancier,  mentions  also  as  good  bee-flowers — phacelia  te- 
nacitifolia  ‘ salvia  nemorosa ; lithrum  salicaria  ; winter  aconite  ; 
hepatica  and  wall-flowers ; borage,  winter  vetches,  ivy,  a few 
perches  of  turnips  running  to  seed  in  spring,  and  a succession  of 
crops  of  buckwheat  during  summer  and  autumn.  Mr.  Briggs 
also  mentions  a plant  so  very  valuable  to  bees  that  it  is  only  a 
pity  it  is  not  more  generally  known,  viz.,  melilotus  leucantha, 
which,  with  borage,  he  seems  to  think  the  most  important  of 
bee-flowers.  Mr.  Briggs  adds  that  the  former,  for  bee  purposes, 
“ should  be  sown  in  March  or  the  beginning  of  April,  on  a deep, 
rich,  and  dry  loamy  soil,  in  drills  about  eighteen  inches  apart,  and 
the  plants  thinned  to  nine  or  ten  inches’  distance  from  each  other. 
It  will  grow  from  six  to  eight  feet  in  height  during  the  first  sum- 
mer, and  from  ten  to  turelve  during  the  second.  If  some  plants 
of  it  are  cut  down  to  the  ground,  when  about  two  feet  in  height, 
they  will  bloom  later  in  the  summer — a succession  of  them  may 
be  had  from  June  to  November,  and  they  will  be  frequented  by 
thousands  of  bees  during  every  fine  day  throughout  the  season. 
Mi\  Briggs  has,  with  unusual  generosity,  distributed  quantities 
of  this  valuable  seed  to  bee  fanciers,  so  that  there  can  be  no  dif- 
ficulty in  obtaining  it. 

While  I recommend  the  sowing  of  such  seeds  as  will  produce 
2 


28 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


plants  beneficial  and  grateful  to  the  bees,  I have  also  t<;  observe 
that  there  are  plants  which  prove  noxious  to  them  or  tc  the  con- 
sumers of  their  produce  ; sometimes  to  one,  sometimes  to  both. 
Xenophon  mentions,  in  the  Anabasis,  that  soldiers  of  his  army 
were  poisoned  by  honeycomb  they  found  near  Trebizond  ; and 
M.  Tournefort,  a traveler  through  that  country,  discovered  a 
plant  called  “ chamserhododendron,  mespili  folio,”  a plant  closely 
resembling  the  honeysuckle  in  smell,  which  produced  effects  iden- 
tical with  those  described  by  Xenophon,  namely  intoxication, 
vertigo,  stupor ; the  men  affected  recovering  from  their  illness  in 
about  three  or  four  days. 

Recollect  also  that  your  hives  should  on  no  account  be  so 
placed  as  to  be  exposed  to  the  noonday  sun — this  will  injure  the 
honey  and  melt  it,  and  will  raise  the  temperature  of  the  hive  so 
as  to  produce  unwished-for  swarming,  besides  otherwise  annoy- 
ing and  injuring  the  bees.  A few  shrubs,  therefore,  should  be 
so  placed  as  to  cast  their  shadow  across  your  stand  during  the 
heat  of  the  day ; you  may  also  let  these  shrubs  be  of  such  a de- 
scription as  the  bees  are  fond  of — you  will  thus  effect  a double 
object ; and  you  may  also  dispose  them  tastefully,  so  as  to  give 
your  apiary  a pleasing  and  picturesque  appearance. 

Finally,  I object  to  bee-houses,  whose  chief  recommendation  is 
set  forward  as  consisting  of  their  capacity  for  containing  a great 
number  of  hives — these  are  only  fit  for  keeping  the  bee- boxes  in 
during  winter — one,  two,  or  three  sets  of  collateral  boxes  are  as 
many  as  any  moderate  bee-keeper  will  desire,  or  be  able  conveni- 
ently to  attend,  and  these  can  be  kept,  each  in  a little  shed  by 
itself.  Beehives  should  never  be  placed  close  to  each  other,  as 
they  must  necessarily  be  in  these  houses,  for  bees  are  naturally 
very  irritable  and  pugnacious  insects,  and  if  two  colonies  be  kept 
too  near  each  other,  battles  will  ensue,  and  the  weaker  hive  be 
destroyed.  If  you  persist,  therefore,  in  using  hives,  at  all  events 
let  them  be  at  least  three  feet  apart — but  1 shall  show  you  in 
the  next  chapter,  how  you  can  make  for  yourselves  collateral 
boxes,  sufficient  for  success,  and  for  so  little  money,  if  indeed  you 
are  called  upon  for  any  outlay,  that  I think  I shall  be  able  to 
wean  you  altogether  from  the  old  and  unprofitable  straw  basket. 


HIVES  AND  BOXES. 


27 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HIVES  AND  BOXES. 

The  old  straw,  conical-shaped  hive  is  too  well  known  to  need 
description,  and  is  too  unprofitable  to  be  worthy  of  it.  I may 
merely  observe,  that  its  mode  of  management  was  simple  enough, 
consisting  only  in  leaving  the  bees  to  themselves  until  autumn, 
then  inserting  brimstone  matches  into  the  hive,  suffocating  its 
miserable  inhabitants,  and  taking,  perhaps,  15  or  16  lbs.  of  very 
bad  honey,  smelling  foully  of  sulphurous  acid  gas,  and  full  of  the 
dead  bodies  of  its  ill-requited  producers.  When,  about  midsum- 
mer, the  temperature  of  the  hive  increased  to  such  a degree 
as  to  become  insupportable  to  the  inmates,  they  swarmed,  as  it 
was  called,  that  is  to  say,  the  queen  took  her  departure,  accom- 
panied by  a certain  number  of  her  subjects,  to  seek  a more 
roomy  residence. 

The  main  objections  to  this  old  system  of  management  are,  its 
inhumanity , its  absurdity,  and  its  unprofitableness.  What  could 
be  more  inhuman  than  killing  the  poor  things  unnecessarily,  for 
the  sake  of  their  produce  ? What  would  be  said,  did  we  kill 
the  cow  for  her  milk,  or  calf,  or  the  hen  for  her  eggs  ? Indeed, 
to 'nothing  can  I compare  this  practice  more  aptly  than  to  the 
man  in  the  old  fable,  who  killed  and  cut  open  his  goose,  in  order 
to  come  at  her  golden  eggs.  What  can  be  more  absurd  than  to 
destroy  in  mere  wantonness  the  lives  of  multitudes  of  creatures 
that,  if  permitted  to  live,  would  be  ready  to  resume  work  for  you 
the  following  spring?  and  in  what  is  its  absurdity  shown  so 
plainly  as  in  its  unprofitableness  ? What  signify  ten  or  fifteen 
pounds  weight  of  honey,  or  even  thirty  pounds  weight  to  be 
produced  by  a single  stock  in  a season — and  that,  too,  when  100 
lbs.  weight  will  be  furnished,  provided  only  that  you  take  advice 
— and  that  honey,  moreover,  of  superior  quality,  pure,  crystal- 
line, and  limpid  ? — very  unlike  the  foul  produce  of  a dirty  straw- 
hive,  copiously  clogged  with  the  bodies  of  your  murdered  bene- 
factors. 

The  chief  objects  to  be  effected  by  the  use  of  a suitable  re- 
ceptacle for  your  bees  are — 

First — The  power  of  depriving  youj*  bees  of  their  honey  at 
pleasure,  and  without  injury  to  them. 


28 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


Secondly — The  obtaining  it  in  its  pure  and  uncoataminated 
form. 

Thirdly — The  means  of  enlarging  their  accommodation  when 
necessary,  and  the  consequent  prevention  of  swarming. 

These  requisites  have  been  recognized  for  a great  many  years 
back ; and  the  humane  system  of  management  so  enthusiastically 
promulgated  and  insisted  upon  by  the  late  Mr.  Nutt,  is  by  no 
means  novel,  as  it  is  identical  in  principle  with  that  described  by 
bee-fanciers  who  lived  more  than  half  a century  before  him.  As 
Mr.  Nutt’s  hive  is  in  more  fashionable  repute  at  present  than  any 
other  with  which  I am  acquainted,  I shall  give  it  the  precedence 
in  order  of  description  ; I shall  quote  Mr.  Nutt’s  own  descrip- 
tion, from  his  very  interesting  work. 

“ There  has  been  some  difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  most 
suitable  dimensions  for  bee-boxes.  I approve  of  and  recommend 
those  which  are  from  eleven  to  twelve  inches  square  inside,  and 
nine  or  ten  inches  deep  in  the  clear. 

“The  best  wood  for  them  is,  by  some,  said  to  be  red  cedar; 
the  chief  grounds  of  preference  of  which  wood  are,  its  effects  in 
keeping  moths  out  of  the  boxes,  and  its  being  a bad  conductor 
of  heat.  But  of  whatever  kind  of  wood  bee- boxes  are  made,  it 
should  be  well  seasoned,  perfectly  sound,  and  free  from  what 
carpenters  term  shakes.  The  sides  of  the  boxes,  particularly  the 
front  sides,  should  be,  at  the  least,  an  inch  and  a half  in  thick- 
ness ; for  the  ends,  top,  and  back  part,  good  boards  one  inch 
thick,  are  sufficiently  substantial ; the  ends  that  form  the  interior 
divisions  and  openings  must  be  of  half-inch  stuff,  well  dressed  off, 
so  that,  when  the  boxes  and  the  dividing  tins  are  closed — that  is, 
when  they  are  all  placed  together,  the  two  adjoining  ends  should 
not  exceed  five-eighths  of  an  inch  in  thickness.  These  commu- 
nication ends,  the  bars  of  which  should  be  exactly  parallel  with 
each  other,  form  a communication  or  division,  as  the  case  may 
require,  which  is  very  important  to  the  bee,  and  by  which  the 
said  boxes  can  be  immediately  divided,  without  injuring  any  part 
of  the  combs,  or  deluging  the  bees  with  the  liquid  honey,  which 
so  frequently  annoys  them,  in  extracting  their  sweets  from  the 
piled  or  storified  boxes.  This  is  not  the  only  advantage  my 
boxes  possess  : the  receptacles,  or  frame-work,  for  the  ventila- 
tors, which  appear  upon  each  side  of  the  end  boxes — the  one 
with  the  cover  off,  the  other  with  it  on — must  be  four  inches 
square,  with  a perforated  flat  tin,  of  nearly  the  same  size  ; and 


HIVES  AND  BOXES. 


29 


in  the  middle  of  that  tin  must  be  a round  hole,  to  correspond 
with  the  hole  through  the  top  of  the  box,  in  the  centre  of  the 
frame-work  just  mentioned,  an  inch  in  diameter,  to  admit  the 
perforated  cylinder  tin  ventilator,  nine  inches  long.  This  flat  tin 
must  have  a smooth  piece  of  wood,  well  made  to  fit  it  closely, 
aud  to  cover  the  frame- work  just  mentioned,  so  as  to  carry  the 
wet  off ; then  placing  this  cover  over  the  square  perforated  tin, 
your  box  will  be  secure  from  the  action  of  wind  and  rain.  The 
perforated  cylinder  serves  both  for  a ventilator,  and  also  for  a se- 
cure and  convenient  receptacle  for  a thermometer,  at  any  time 
when  it  is  necessary  to  ascertain  the  temperature  of  the  box  into 
which  the  cylinder  is  inserted.  Within  this  frame-work,  and  so 
that  the  perforated  flat  tin  already  described  may  completely 
cover  them,  at  each  corner  make  a hole  with  a three-eighths  cen- 
tre bit,  through  the  top  of  the  box.  These  four  small  holes  ma- 
terially assist  the  ventilation,  and  are,  in  fact,  an  essential  part 
of  it. 

“We  next  come  to  the  long  floor,  on  which  the  three  square 
bee-boxes  which  constitute  a set,  stand  collaterally.  This  floor 
is  the  strong  top  of  a long,  shallow  box,  made  for  the  express 
purpose  of  supporting  the  three  bee  boxes,  and  must  of  course 
be  superficially  of  such  dimensions  as  those  boxes,  when  placed 
collaterally,  require ; or,  if  the  bee  boxes  project  the  eighth  part 
of  an  inch  over  the  ends  and  back  of  this  floor  box,  so  much  the 
better ; because  the  rain  or  wet  that  may  at  any  time  fall  upon 
them  will  drain  off  completely.  For  ornament,  as  much  as  for 
use,  this  floor  is  made  to  project  about  two  inches  in  front ; but 
this  projection  must  be  sloped,  or  made  an  inclined  plane,  so  as 
to  carry  off  the  wet  from  the  front  of  the  boxes.  To  the  centre 
of  this  projecting  front,  and  on  a plane  with  the  edge  of  the  part 
cut  away  for  the  entrance  of  the  bees  into  the  pavilion,  is  attached 
the  alighting  board,  which  consists  of  a piece  of  planed  board, 
six  inches  by  three,  having  the  two  outward  corners  rounded  off 
a little.  The  passage  from  this  alighting  board  into  the  pavilion 
is  cut,  not  out  of  the  edge  of  the  box,  but  out  of  the  floor -board, 
and  should  be  not  less  than  four  inches  in  length,  and  about  half 
an  inch  in  depth,  or  so  as  to  make  a clear  half  inch  way  under 
the  edge  of  the  box  for  the  bee  passage.  I recommend  this  as 
preferable  to  a cut  in  the  edge  of  the  box  ; because,  being  upon 
an  inclined  plane,  if  at  any  time  the  wet  should  be  driven  into 
the  pavilion  by  a stormy  wind,  it  would  soon  drain  out,  and  th« 


30 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


floor  become  dry ; whereas,  if  the  entrance  passage  be  cut  out 
of  the  box,  the  rain  that  may,  and  at  times  will  be,  drifted  in, 
will  be  kept  in,  and  the  floor  be  wet  for  days  and  perhaps  for 
weeks,  and  be  very  detrimental  to  the  bees.  In  depth,  the  floor- 
box,  measured  from  outside  to  outside,  should  be  four  inches, 
so  that,  if  made  of  three-fourth-inch  deal,  there  may  be  left  for 
the  depth  of  the  box  part  two  inches  and  a half.  Internally  it 
is  divided  into  three  equal  compartments,  being  one  for  each  bee- 
box.  Admission  to  these  compartments,  or  under  boxes,  is  by 
the  drawer,  or  drawer-fronts,  or  blocks,  which  will  be  described 
presently. 

“ The  bottom,  or  open  edge  of  each  of  the  boxes,  should  be 
well  planed,  and  made  so  even  and  square,  that  they  will  sit 
closely  and  firmly  upon  the  aforesaid  floor,  and  be  as  air-tight  as 
a good  workman  can  make  them,  or  technically  expressed,  be  a 
dead  Jit,  all  round.  In  the  floor-board  are  made  three  small 
openings,  i.  e.,  one  near  the  back  of  each  box.  These  openings 
are  of  a semilunar  shape  (though  any  other  shape  would  do  as 
well),  the  straight  side  of  which  should  not  exceed  three  inches 
in  length,  and  will  be  most  convenient,  if  made  parallel  with  the 
back  edge  of  the  box,  and  about  an  inch  from  it.  They  are 
covered  by  perforated,  or  by  close,  tin  slides,  as  the  circumstances 
of  your  apiary  may  require.  The  drawer,  the  front  of  which 
appears  under  the  middle  box,  is  of  great  importance,  because 
it  affords  one  of  the  greatest  accommodations  to  the  bees  in  the 
boxes.  In  this  drawer  is  placed,  if  necessity  require  it,  a tin 
made  to  fit  it,  and  in  that  tin  another  thin  frame,  covered  with  book 
muslin,  or  other  fine  strainer,  which  floats  on  the  liquid  deposited 
for  the  sustenance  of  the  bees.  Here,  then,  you  have  a feeder, 
containing  the  prepared  sweet,  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the 
mother  hive,  and  without  admitting  the  cold  or  the  robbers  to 
annoy  the  bees.  When  you  close  the  drawer  thus  prepared  writh 
bee  food,  you  must  draw  out  the  tin  placed  over  the  semilunar 
aperture,  which  will  open  to  the  bees  a way  to  their  food  in  the 
drawer  beneath.  The  heat  of  the  hive  follows  the  bees  into  the 
feeding  apartment,  which  soon  becomes  the  temperature  of  their 
native  hive.  There  the  bees  banquet  on  the  proffered  boon  in 
the  utmost  security,  and  in  the  temperature  of  their  native  domi- 
cile. Under  such  favorable  circumstances,  it  is  an  idle  excuse, 
not  to  say  a want  of  humanity,  to  rjiffer  your  bees  to  die  for 
want  of  attention  to  proper  feeding.” 


HIVES  AND  BOXES. 


31 


The  box  fronts  on  each  side  of  the  feeding  drawer  are  formed 
of  a bit  of  talc  suspended  over  a hole  on  the  outside,  thus  per- 
mitting egress,  but  precluding  ingress.  By  means  of  this  con- 
trivance you  are  enabled  to  add  to  the  number  of  your  bees, 
without  alarming  or  annoying  them,  and  they  can  likewise  escape 
when  you  are  depriving  them  of  one  or  the  other  of  the  collateral 
boxes.  This  contrivance  further  precludes  the  intrusion  of  insect 
enemies. 

The  centre  is  perforated  on  the  top,  and  over  the  hole  a bell 
glass  is  placed,  which,  when  the  hive  is  filled,  the  bees  fill  with 
honey,  and  it  is  unnecessary  to  add  that  this  honey  is  of  the 
very  purest  description.  Wooden  fittings  or  covers  are  provided 
for  the  protection  of  these  glasses. 

The  bees  being  placed  in  the  centre  box,  or  pavilion,  soon 
commence  operations,  and  speedily  fill  it  with  honey.  When  full, 
which  you  may  ascertain  by  looking  through  a window  fixed  in 
the  hack  of  the  box,  you  are  to  draw  the  tin  slide  which  sepa- 
rates it  fiom  the  bell  glass  ; this  is  best  done  on  a warm  day,  and 
you  should  previously  cut  through  the  comb  with  a thin  wire. 
Before  taking  off  the  glass  the  operator  should  pause  for  a few 
minutes,  to  observe  whether  there  be  any  unusual  stir  among 
the  imprisoned  bees,  for  if  they  do  not  appear  alarmed,  the 
queen  is  among  them,  and,  in  that  case,  you  should  withdraw 
the  slide,  and  postpone  the  operation  to  another  day. 

In  taking  away  the  glass,  envelope  it  in  a silk  handkerchief, 
and  remove  it  about  ten  yards  from  the  boxes  ; then  place  it  a 
little  on  one  side,  so  as  to  permit  the  imprisoned  bees  to  escape, 
which  they  will  do  in  the  course  of  a few  minutes. 

When  occasion  requires,  the  bees  are  to  be  similarly  admitted 
into  the  side  boxes,  by  drawing  the  slides,  but  in  removing  one 
of  these  boxes  some  precautions  require  to  be  used.  For  in- 
stance, open  the  ventilator  the  night  previous ; this  will,  by 
lowering  the  temperature  of  the  hive,  and  admitting  a current  of 
air,  induce  the  bees  to  leave  the  box  thus  treated,  and  to  con- 
gregate in  the  pavilion.  You  may  then  put  down  the  slide,  and 
let  the  bees  remain  for  ten  minutes  or  so  in  darkness.  If  the 
queen  be  not  in  the  box  to  be  taken,  any  bees  that  may  remain 
in  it  will  be  restless  and  in  confusion.  If  she  should  be  there, 
the  commotion  will  be  in  the  centre  box.  If  the  queen  should 
be  in  the  box  you  intend  taking,  draw  up  the  slide  again  and  she 
will  soon  leave  it.  Having  emptied  the  full  box,  return  it  to  it? 


82 


THE  HIVE  AND  TIIE  HONEY-BEE. 


place.  In  Mr.  Nutt’s  system  it  will  be  perceived  that  fumiga- 
tion, or  bee-dress  (hereafter  to  be  described),  are  rendered  unne- 
cessary, and  that  even  a child  may  manage  his  boxes  with  ease 
and  safety. 

The  centre  box,  on  account  of  its  being  the  breeding  place,  is 
never  to  be  meddled  with. 

“ Weaken  not  its  population,  but  support  its  influence,  and 
extend  it  to  those  accommodations  which  no  practice,  expect  my 
own,  has  yet  put  into  operation,  or  made  provision  for.” 

The  value  of  Mr.  Nutt’s  set  of  bee-boxes  is  unquestionable, 
but  they  are,  at  the  same  time,  necessarily  too  costly  to  be 
within  the  reach  of  those  whom  Providence  has  not  seen  fit  to 
bless  with  “golden  store.”  Mr.  Nutt’s  views,  although  possibly, 
as  far  as  he  himself  is  concerned,  original,  were  entertained  by 
bee-keepers  many,  many  years  before  him.  Among  the  rest,  I 
may  mention  Wildman,  who  not  only  used  collateral  boxes,  but 
even  bell  glasses,  similar  to  those  of  Mr.  Nutt ; the  Rev.  S. 
White,  and  Madame  Vicat.  Mr.  White  evidently  mismanaged  his 
boxes,  for  the  complaint  against  their  utility  was,  that  the  queen 
laid  her  eggs  promiscuously  in  all  of  them.  This  would  have 
been  obviated  had  he  thought  of  Mr.  Nutt’s  subsequent  idea, 
viz.,  of  reserving  one  box  as  the  seat  of  generation,  and  sepa- 
rating it  from  the  side  boxes,  until  necessity  called  for  junction, 
by  tin  sliders.  Not  only,  however,  must  I pronounce  Mr.  Nutt’s 
boxes  an  evident  improvement  upon  those  I have  just  mentioned, 
on  the  score  of  utility  and  completeness,  but  actually  also  on  the 
score  of  simplicity,  and  the  comparative  facility  with  which  they 
are  consequently  susceptible  of  being  wrorked. 

Any  person  cf  common  ingenuity  can  form  for  himself  a set  of 
collateral  boxes,  by  attending  to  the  following  directions : 

Take  as  a stand  a piece  of  strong  board  ; let  it  be  about  four 
feet  long,  and  about  two  feet  wide,  as  thick  as  you  can  procure 
it ; place  it  on  four  legs,  and  let  the  edge  project  over  the  legs, 
in  order  to  prevent  the  incursion  of  insects ; plane  the  upper 
surface  smooth. 

Make  three  boxes,  each  about  ten  inches  square,  with,  of 
course,  no  bottom,  and  have  the  edges  of  the  bottomless  portion 
planed  smooth,  so  as  to  lie  as  close  as  possible  to  the  board. 
Cut  away  a portion  of  the  bottom  of  one  side  of  each  box,  and 
in  that  designed  for  the  centre  box,  do  so  on  two  opposite 
sides — these  are  for  communication.  Get  two  sheets  of  tin,  or 


HIVES  AND  BOXES. 


33 


thin  wood — a piece  of  a broken  tea-chest  will  do  admirably — 
and  place  one  between  each  of  the  collateral  boxes  and  the  cen- 
tre one,  so  as  to  cut  off  communication  between  them,  until  it  is 
desired  to  open  it,  when  of  course  one  of  them  is  withdrawn, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  the  side-box,  thus  opened,  will  be 
pushed  close  to  the  central  one.  Let  the  stand  board  be  on  an 
inclined  plane,  sloping  towards  the  front,  so  as  to  throw  off  wet, 
and  let  the  said  board  project  a couple  of  inches,  to  serve  the 
bees  as  a place  on  which  to  alight.  You  may  make  a small  hole, 
about  half  an  inch,  or  rather  less,  in  diameter,  in  front  of  this 
centre  box,  partly  in  the  box,  and  partly  in  the  board,  for  the 
ingress  and  egress  of  its  inhabitants.  If  the  board  have  a pro- 
per inclination  outward,  there  is  no  fear  of  any  wet  either  pene- 
trating or  lodging.  Paint  your  boxes  externally,  but  do  so  a 
considerable  time  before  you  require  to  use  them,  and  encom- 
pass them,  with  the  best  sort  of  rough  shed  that  you  can 
“ knock  up bore  a hole,  with  a centre  bit,  in  the  top  of  each 
box,  and  place  a glass  vessel  over  it.  When  it  is  necessary  to 
feed  your  bees,  you  can  do  so  by  attaching  a feeder  to  the  en- 
trance door,  and  the  holes  for  the  bell  glasses  will  afford  you  am- 
ple means  of  ventilating.  In  case  they  should  not,  however,  you 
may  have  a hole  at  the  back  of  each  box,  stopped  with  a cork, 
which  you  can  withdraw  for  the  admission  of  air  when  neces- 
sary. Take  care,  however,  that  you  do  not  push  the  cork  en- 
tirely through  the  wood  of  the  box,  or  it  will  be  so  cemented  by 
propolis,  that  you  cannot,  perhaps,  draw  it  out  without  injury  or 
disturbance  to  the  combs.  Such  a set  of  boxes  as  I describe 
may  be  made  easily  enough,  and  for  little  or  no  cost,  and  will 
answer  all  purposes  of  utility,  though,  perhaps,  deficient  in  or- 
nament, as  well  as  the  most  costly  and  elaborate. 

Mr.  Briggs,  on  the  formation  of  bee-boxes,  says  : 

“ They  should  be  chosen,  or  constructed,  of  as  good  quality 
as  possible,  so  as  to  effectually  preserve  their  contents  from 
either  extreme  heat  or  cold,  dampness,  or  any  sudden  changes  of 
temperature. 

“ The  size  of  the  centre  box  should  be  about  ten  and  one-half 
inches  cube,  inside  measure ; and  it  would  be  an  advantage  to 
have  six  bars  fixed  across  the  top  of  it,  from  front  to  back, 
which  should  be  one  and  one-eighth  inch  in  width,  half  an  inch 
in  thickness,  and  half  an  inch  apart — the  ends  of  each  of  which 
should  be  neatly  rabbeted  into  the  front  and  back  of  the  box. 

*2* 


34 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


Over  tiie  bars  should  be  laid  a piece  of  thin  gauze,  and  upon  it 
the  top  or  covering  board  of  the  box,  which  may  have  a circular 
hole  in  the  middle  of  it,  securely  stopped  by  a good  cork  bung, 


to  be  removed  for  the  purpose  of  placing  a small  bell  glass  over 
the  hole  as  occasion  requires. 

“ The  side  boxes  may  be  made  and  used  of  different  sizes  if 
desired,  and  to  contain  from  350  to  1100  cubic  inches  each.  If 
the  smaller  sizes  are  adopted,  the  entrance  to  them  must  be 
along  the  hollow  part  of  the  bottom  board  ; but  it  would  be  con- 
sidered more  complete  to  have  the  side  boxes  of  the  same  width 
and  depth  as  the  centre  one,  and  to  kave  them  well  fitted  and 
secured  together  during  the  honey-gathering  season.  The  en- 
trance from  the  centre  to  the  side  boxes  may  then  extend  along 
the  under  edges  of  each  of  them  from  front  to  back,  and  about 
three-eighths  to  one-half  an  inch  in  depth : there  should  also  be 
a perpendicular  one  three  inches  long,  and  half  an  inch  wide,  up 
the  centre  of  the  end  of  each  of  the  boxes,  the  upper  part  of 
which  should  reach  to  within  three  inches  of  the  top  of  the  box 
inside. 

“ The  use  of  bars  to  the  top  of  boxes  is  frequently  of  much 
service  tfr  the  apiarian,  as  he  can  thereby  occasionally  remove  a 
few  of  the  old  combs  from  the  box,  and  can,  at  any  time,  have 
an  opportunity  of  examining  the  state  of  the  interior  of  the 
boxes.  Before  using  a new  box  with  bars,  as  above,  a piece  of 
pure  and  clean  brood  comb  should  be  neatly  fixed  to  each,  or 
every  alternate  bar,  which  may  be  readily  accomplished  by  the 
assistance  of  a long  and  smooth  piece  of  heated  iron — the  comb 
being  rubbed  for  a few  seconds  on  the  iron,  should  immediately 
be  applied  to  the  bar,  and  will  then,  in  a short  time,  firmly  ad- 
here to  it. 

“ The  use  of  hives  of  straw  is  by  many  persons  still  continued 
ana  approve  I ; and  I have  no  doubt,  that  when  they  arc  pro* 


HIVES  AND  BOXES. 


3£ 

per.y  made,  and  judiciously  managed,  according  to  the  direc- 
tions previously  given,  the  returns  from  them  will  often  equal,  or 
surpass,  those  from  some  of  the  more  fancy-shaped  and  expen- 
sive wooden  boxes. 

“ The  size  of  straw  hives  should  be  from  sixteen  to  seventeen 
inches  in  diameter,  and  twelve  to  thirteen  inches  in  height ; and 
they  should  have  a narrow,  flat,  and  thick  top  of  wood,  with  a 
circular  hole  and  cork  bung  in  the  centre  of  it,  similar  to  that 
which  is  recommended  for  wooden  boxes. 

“ The  outer  box,  in  which  the  stock-hive  and  side  boxes  are 
enclosed,  having  been  made  wider  than  the  interior  hives  or 
boxes,  should  have  a partition  from  front  to  back,  on  each  side 
of  the  stock-hive,  and  the  interstices  round  the  centre  hive  filled 
up  with  dry  sawdust,  powdered  charcoal,  or  other  suitable  ma- 
terials, which  will  be  of  service  in  preserving  the  temperature  of 
the  hive  in  a congenial  and  uniform  state. 

“ I have  above  stated  that  the  communication  from  the  straw 
stock-hive  to  the  side  boxes  should  be  along  the  hollow  centre 
of  the  bottom  board ; and  I recommend  that  three  or  more  cir- 
cular holes  be  made  in  the  bottom  board  on  each  side,  in  such 
a manner  that  each  of  them  may  be  covered  with  a bell-glass, 
or  that  one  of  the  larger  side  hives  or  boxes  may  be  placed  over 
them,  as  may  suit  the  wishes  or  convenience  of  the  apiarian. 

“ When  glasses  are  used,  they  should  be  well  covered  with 
some  soft  woollen  materials,  and  a hive  or  box  should  then  be 
placed  over  them  to  effectually  exclude  the  light,  and  preserve 
them  from  accidents  of  any  kind,  and  sudden  changes  of  tempe- 
rature. 

“ It  is  advisable  to  have  the  outer  box  well  made,  with  a neat 
and  substantial  roof  to  carry  off  the  wet,  &e. ; and  it  should  be 
made  of  such  breadth  as  to  leave  a space  of  one-half  inch  on 
each  side  of  the  stock-hive. 

“ I w ould  recommend,  that  if  the  bees  are  kept  in  a straw 
hive,  that  it  be  of  a large  size,  and  well  made ; and  should  be 
stocked  with  a strong  swarm  at  the  usual  period  of  the  year.  It 
should  then  be  placed  on  the  centre  of  a stout  bottom  board, 
made  long  enough  to  hold  a small  hive  or  box  on  each  side  of  it, 
and  having  hollow  communications  from  the  centre  hive  to  the 
side  ones,  which  can  be  opened  or  closed  at  pleasure.  When  the 
bees  require  room  in  the  Spring  or  Summer  months,  the  entrance 
from  the  centre  to  one  of  the  side  hives  must  be  opened,  and 


36 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


after  they  have  fairly  taken  possession  of  it,  it  must  be  properly 
ventilated  by  a hole  previously  formed  on  the  top,  and  covered 
with  a piece  of  perforated  zinc,  keeping  the  temperature  between 
65°  and  75°  of  Fahrenheit’s  thermometer. 

“ The  three  hives  should  have  a well  made  wooden  covering 
over  them,  with  a span-shaped  roof  to  carry  off  the  wet,  <fcc., 
and  an  opening  at  the  back  for  the  purpose  of  examining  the 
progress  of  the  bees ; the  outer  box  should  be  well  painted  and 
waterproofed,  and  will  greatly  assist  in  regulating  the  tempera- 
ture of  the  hives,  and  in  protecting  them  from  extreme  cold, 
dampness,  and  sunshine. 

“ I would  recommend  a set  of  two  or  three  of  the  improved 
collateral  boxes,  which  may  be  made  of  well-seasoned  boards, 
about  ten  and  a half  inches  cube,  inside  measure,  and  to  be 
neatly  fitted  together,  with  convenience  for  ventilation  and  in- 
spection, and  they  must  also  have  a wooden  covering  over  them, 
with  an  opening  at  the  back,  similar  to  the  one  above  mentioned. 

“ The  outer  box  should  be  one  inch,  or  one  and  a half  inch 
wider  inside  than  the  outer  dimensions  of  the  interior  boxes. 

“ By  constructing  boxes  on  the  above  plan,  the  swarming  of 
the  bees  may  be,  by  judicious  management,  for  a time  prevented, 
but  it  is  not  recommended  that  that  propensity  should  be  en- 
tirely defeated,  as  a swarm  may  be  occasionally  taken  from  col- 
lateral boxes  with  advantage  to  the  swarm  and  to  the  stock  hive. 

“ By  proper  attention,  large  quantities  of  pure  honey  may  be 
obtained  by  the  above  system  of  management.  Last  year,  a 
friend  in  this  vicinity  obtained  109,  97,  and  89  pounds  of  pure 
honeycomb  from  three  sets  of  Nutt’s  collateral  boxes.” 

Mr.  Taylor,  in  his  “ Beekeeper’s  Manual,”  speaks  as  follows  of 
bee-boxes : — 

u It  matters  not  much  of  what  wood  the  boxes  are  made,  pro- 
vided it  is  sound,  thoroughly  seasoned,  and  well  put  together. 
Different  opinions  are  entertained  as  to  the  best  size  of  bee- 
boxes,  but  I think  that  much  must  depend  on  the  number  of 
bees  they  are  to  contain,  and  on  the  honey  locality  ; there  must 
also  be  a reference  to  the  proposed  mode  of  working  them,  for, 
where  no  swarming  is  permitted,  a larger  hive  may  be  advan- 
tageously used.  A good  size  is  twelve  inches  square,  and  nine 
inches  deep  withinside,  the  thickness  throughout  being  not  less 
than  an  inch.  The  top  of  the  box  ought  to  project  on  all  sides 
nearly  three-quarters  of  an  inch,  for  better  protection  and  ap- 


HIVES  AND  BOXES. 


37 


pearance,  and  as  affording  convenience  for  lifting.  On  the  top, 
a two-inch  hole  should  be  cut  in  the  centre,  for  placing  a bell- 
glass,  and  for  the  purpose  of  feeding ; and  another  hole  to  re- 
ceive a ventilator  may  be  made  near  the  back  window,  that  posi- 
tion being  better  for  inspection,  and  less  in  the  way  of  the  bees, 
than  the  centre  of  the  hive,  which  is,  or  ought  to  be,  the  seat 
of  breeding,  and  should  not  be  disturbed.  A window  may  be 
placed  at  the  back  and  front,  five  inches  high,  and  six  or  seven 
inches  wide.  The  best  and  neatest  way  of  securing  the  win- 
dows, that  I have  seen,  is  by  a sliding  shutter  of  zinc.  Round 
the  window,  there  must  be  a projecting  moulding,  mitred  at  the 
corners.  On  one  side,  the  piece  of  moulding  is  movable,  and  to 
the  back  of  this  is  screwed  a plate  of  sheet  zinc.  This  passes 
into  a rabbet  to  receive  it,  cut,  on  the  remaining  three  sides,  at 
the  back  of  the  lower  edge  of  the  moulding.  To  prevent  any 
wet  from  lodging  at  the  bottom  moulding,  an  opening  or  two 
may  easily  be  cut  through,  on  the  under  side,  to  allow  its  es- 
cape. For  the  sake  of  uniformity  of  appearance,  blank  win- 
dows may  be  made  opposite  to  the  real  ones.  Hives  of  this 
kind  require  to  be  placed  under  some  cover  or  shed,  as  a pro- 
tection from  wet,  and  a hot  sun.” 

It  will  not,  I am  sure,  be  deemed  amiss  that  I here  supply  my 
readers  with  an  account  of  the  “ Leaf  Hive”  invented  by  the  cele- 
brated Huber,  and  designed  by  him  to  furnish  all  the  requisites 
for  which  Mr.  Nutt  produced  his  collateral  boxes  : — 

“ This  hive,”  says  Huber,  “ consists  of  dight  frames,  each 
eighteen  inches  high  and  ten  inches  wide  inside,  having  the  up- 
rights and  top  cross  pieces  one  and  a half  inch  broad,  and  one 
thick,  so  that  the  eight  frames,  when  placed  close  together,  con- 
stitute a hive  eighteen  inches  high,  twelve  inches  between  end 
and  end,  and  ten  inches  between  back  and  front,  all  inside  measure. 
The  frames  are  held  together  by  a flat  sliding- bar  on  each  side, 
secured  by  wedges  and  pins.  To  the  first  and  eighth  of  these 
frames  is  attached  a frame  with  glass,  and  covered  with  a shutter. 
The  body  of  the  hive  is  protected  by  a sloping  roof,  and  the  en- 
trance is  made  through  the  thickness  of  the  floor-board.  We  dis- 
like the  sliding- bars,  with  their  pins  and  wedges,  which  are  so 
far  inconvenient,  that,  in  drawing  them  out,  all  the  frames  are 
liable  to  open,  and  the  observer  is  exposed  to  some  hazard  of 
annoyance,  from  the  bees  issuing  out  at  every  joint : and  we  have 
substituted  for  them  hinges  on  one  side,  and  a hook-and-eye  on 


38 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


each  frame  on  the  other ; we  can  thus  open  any  particular  leaf 
without  meddling  with  the  rest.  In  taking  honey  from  this  hive, 
the  bee-master  has  the  whole  interior  completely  under  his  eye, 
and  at  his  disposal,  and  can  choose  what  combs  best  suit  his  pur- 
pose, both  as  to  quantity  and  quality  ; taking  care,  however,  to 
do  so  only  at  such  periods  as  will  leave  the  bees  time  to  replenish 
the  vacancy  before  the  termination  of  the  honey  season.  It  is 
also  well  adapted  for  artificial  swarming.  By  separating  the  hive 
into  halves,  the  honey,  brood-combs,  and  bees  will,  generally 
speaking,  be  equally  divided  ; and  by  supplying  each  half  with 
four  empty  frames,  we  shall  have  two  hives,  one  half  empty, 
equal  in  number  of  bees,  of  brood,  and  even  of  stores.  One  of 
the  new  hives  will  possess  the  queen  ; and  if  the  operation  has 
been  performed  at  the  proper  time — that  is  to  say,  a week  or  ten 
days  before  the  period  of  natural  swarming — the  probability  is, 
there  will  be  a royal  brood  coming  forward  in  the  other ; at  all 
events,  there  will  be  plenty  of  eggs  and  larvae  of  the  propei  age 
for  forming  an  artificial  queen.” 

Cheapness,  and  an  obstinate  adhesion  tc  the  customs  of  our 
forefathers,  induce  straw  hives  still  to  be  used  by  many.  Mr. 
Briggs  has  already  shown  how  they  may,  when  necessarily  or 
optionally  employed,  be  rendered  almost  as  productive  as  boxes. 
I add  the  following  from  Mr.  Taylor,  who  objects  to  the  use  of 
sticks  or  cross-pieces,  sometimes  employed  for  the  purpose  of  sup- 
porting the  combs : — 


“ The  sticks  are  only  an  annoyance  to  the  bees  ; and  there  is 
little  fear  of  the  combs  falling,  except  in  very  deep  hives  ; at  any 
rate,  it  may  be  prevented  by  contracting  the  lower  part  a little. 
The  best  way  of  doing  this  is,  by  working  a wooden  hoop  inside 
the  bottom  band  of  the  hive,  as  recommended  by  Dr.  Bevan, 
who  says,  * It  should  be  perforated  through  its  whole  course, 


HIVES  AND  BOXES. 


39 


and  the  perforations  made  in  an  oblique  direction,  so  distant  from 
each  other  as  to  cause  all  the  stitches  of  the  hive  to  range  in  a 
uniform  manner.’  The  hoop  gives  greater  stability  to  the  hive, 
preserves  the  lower  edge  from  decay,  and  affords  facility  in  moving 
it.  I advise  a circular  piece  of  wood  (turned  with  a groove  at 
the  edge,  to  retain  it  in  its  place)  to  be  worked  into  the  crown, 
having  through  it  an  inch  and  a-half  hole.  With  a little  ingenuity, 
the  bees  may  be  fed  through  this  opening — a better  method  than 
the  ordinary  one  at  the  bottom  of  a hive.  A piece  of  wood  or 
tin  will  commonly  cover  the  hole  ; but  at  times,  and  especially  in 
winter,  it  may  be  used  for  the  purpose  of  ventilation,  and  allow- 
ing escape  to  the  impure  air  of  the  hive.  In  this  case,  a bit  of 
perforated  tin  or  zinc  should  be  placed  over  it,  which,  when 
stopped  up  by  the  bees,  can  be  replaced  by  a clean  one.  An 
earthen  pan  is  a common  cover  to  a straw  hive  ; and  this  may  be 
slightly  raised  by  wedges  on  the  four  sides,  to  permit  a small 
space  underneath.  Of  whatever  material  the  outer  covering  con- 
sists, it  must  project  so  far  on  all  sides  as  to  protect  the  hive  from 
the  least  moisture.  This  cannot  be  too  much  guarded  against ; 
and  whether  of  wood  or  straw,  all  hives  ought  to  be  well  painted 
at  the  beginning,  and  periodically  afterwards.” 

I can  confidently  recommend  the  following  simple  and  cheap 
description  of  hive  to  my  readers  : — Get  a common  straw  hive, 
but  let  it  be  of  somewhat  larger  dimensions  than  are  ordinarily 
used,  and  cut  it  across  (about  one-third  of  its  length)  from  the 
upper  or  conical  end  ; fit  to  this  end  a round  piece  of  wood, 
about  an  inch  in  thickness,  having  in  its  centre  a hole  about  an 
inch  and  a half  in  diameter,  fitted  with  a cork  or  bung.  Take 
another  hive  of  ordinary  dimensions,  and  place  it  over  this.  This 
is  called  capping.  When,  during  the  proper  season,  the  bees 
have  filled  the  lower  part  of  the  hive,  and  show  symptoms  of  re- 
quiring more  room,  you  have  only  to  draw  out  the  cork,  and 
place  the  cap  over  the  board.  This  acts  as  a bell-glass  ; and  the 
honey  you  will  collect  in  it  will  not  be  inferior  to  that  procured 
from  the  most  costly  set  of  bee-boxes.  A coating  of  RQman 
cement  on  the  exterior  surface  of  these  hives,  will  render  them 
almost  everlasting. 

De  Gelieu  states  that  he  took  72  lbs.  weight  of  fine,  pure 
honey  from  a straw  hive  thus  capped,  in  one  season. 

Glass,  or,  as  they  are  called  by  some,  “ observatory  hives,” 
*re  not  such  as  I approve  of.  Bees  love  darkness,  and  hate  light 


40 


THE  IIIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE, 


or  observation.  In  a state  of  nature  they  are  in  the  habit  of 
seeking  some  hollow,  vacant  spot  beneath  a bank  or  rock,  the 
cleft  of  a tree,  or  some  similarly  dark  and  secluded  situation. 
The  observatory  hive  is,  then,  foreign  to  the  natural  habits  of  the 
insects,  and  as  such,  of  course,  it  is  not  to  be  recommended. 

The  accompanying  cuts  will  give  a good  idea  of  stands  for 
hives.  This  one  is  intended  for  the  open  ground.  It  is  a post 


s«  into  the  ground,  with  cross  pieces  let  into  it. 


The  annexed  cuts  show  a frame- work  for  shelves,  instead  .*f 


HOW  YOUR  STOCK  IS  TO  BE  OBTAINED. 


41 


whole  boards.  These  frame-works  have  the  advantage  of  more 
firmness  and  the  facility  they  afford  for  ventilation.  On  whole 
boards  the  hive  must  be  elevated  by  bars,  or  holes  be  cut  through 
the  shelf. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

HOW  YOUR  STOCK  IS  TO  BE  OBTAINED. 

You  may  procure  stock  either  in  the  spring  or  autumn.  I 
should  prefer  the  former  period,  because  that  is  the  fitting  time 
for  removal  of  stocks  from  the  old-fashioned,  awkward  hives  to 
the  more  improved  modern  receptacles ; but  it  is  more  difficult 
to  ascertain  the  exact  condition  of  the  stock  you  are  about  pur- 
chasing in  spring  than  it  is  in  autumn.  I am  sorry  to  say  that 
unless  you  purchase  your  stock  from  a friend,  or  from  some  one, 
at  all  events,  that  you  can  confidently  depend  on,  you  are  very 
likely  to  be  taken  in,  and  must,  therefore,  be  upon  your  guard 
against  imposition  : as  some  writer — I forget  who — quaintly 
enough  remarks,  “ Let  it  be  with  the  bees  as  with  a wife,  never 
take  them  on  the  recommendation  of  another  party .”  If  you 
would  purchase  a stock  in  early  spring,  just  after  the  bees  have 
been  removed  from  their  winter  quarters,  you  need  not  attempt 
it  unless  from  a person  on  whose  honor  you  can  positively  de- 
pend. If  during  the  months  of  May  or  June,  you  can  form  some 
judgment  for  yourself,  and  if  you  act  cautiously,  may,  perhaps, 
bid  defiance  to  trickery  : in  this  case  you  should  visit  the  garden, 
or  other  locality,  in  which  the  hive  stands  that  you  intend  pur- 
chasing, about  mid-day ; stand  opposite  to  it,  and  observe  atten- 
tively the  actions  of  its  inhabitants.  If  they  crowd  busily  in  and 
out  of  the  hive,  giving  evidence  of  their  industry  by  the  laden 
appearance  of  their  legs,  and  altogether  exhibiting  a busy  ear- 
nestness in  their  toils,  you  may  safely  buy  the  hive  ; and  if  you 
obtain  this  hive  before  swarming  has  taken  place,  you  may  look 
upon  yourself  as  a fortunate  man. 

If  the  object  of  your  intentions  be  an  autumnal  hive,  you  had 
better  ascertain  that  the  massacre  of  the  drones  has  taken  place  ; 
an  observation  of  the  stand  and  of  the  ground  around  the  hive 
will  tell  this.  Observe  the  actions  of  these  bees — see  that  they 


42 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


are  lively  and  industrious  ; and  if,  on  your  too  near  approach, 
one  or  two  bees  dash  at  your  face,  do  not  be  alarmed,  but  rather 
regard  their  pugnacity  as  a sign  of  vigor,  and  buy  the  hive. 
Some  writers  speak  of  the  necessity  of  purchasing  only  such 
stocks  as  are  in  nice  new  hives.  This  is  an  advice  very  necessary 
to  be  attended  to,  but  it  would  not  be  so,  were  you  sure  that  the 
interior  of  the  hive  were  filled  only  with  honey-comb,  and  with 
no  old,  worn-out  comb,  the  accumulation  of  years.  If  you  are 
in  doubt  on  the  subject,  you  should  fumigate  the  hive  in  the 
evening,  in  the  manner  hereafter  to  be  described  ; then,  turning 
up  the  hive,  you  can  readily  ascertain  the  character  of  its  con- 
tents. If  the  comb  be  black,  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  stock. 
The  genuine  color  of  the  comb  is  white,  and,  consequently,  the 
lighter  it  is,  the  more  the  stock  is  to  be  esteemed. 

Never,  unless  you  can  depend  on  the  party,  send  your  hive  to 
receive  a swarm  ; for  you  may,  if  you  do,  have  a second  swarm 
imposed  upon  you  for  a first — a comparatively  valueless  stock 
for  just  the  very  thing  you  desire.  The  first  swarm  begin  the 
formation  of  the  combs  at  the  middle  of  the  apex  of  the  hive ; 
the  second  does  so  at  the  side.  These  are  the  only  criteria  I can 
furnish,  for  neither  weight  nor  bulk  are  to  be  depended  upon.  It 
is  to  the  obstinate  use  of  the  old-fashioned  hive  that  these  diffi- 
culties, and  these  opportunities  for  fraud,  are  attributable.  Were 
the  improved  system  once  established,  these  cautions  would  be 
no  longer  called  for.  Wildman  has  given  some  good  advice 
as  to  the  purchase  of  stocks ; and  in  this  advice  he  speaks  like 
an  oracle.  Attend  to  him  : — 

“ The  person  who  intends  to  erect  an  apiary,  should  purchase 
a proper  number  of  hives  at  the  latter  end  of  the  year,  when 
they  are  cheapest.  The  hives  should  be  full  of  combs,  and  well 
stored  with  bees.  The  purchaser  should  examine  the  combs,  in 
order  to  know  the  age  of  the  hives.  The  combs  of  that  season 
are  white  ; those  of  a former  year  are  of  a darkish  yellow  ; and 
when  the  combs  are  black , the  hives  should  be  rejected,  because 
old  hives  are  most  liable  to  vermin  and  other  accidents. 

“ If  the  number  of  hives  wanted  have  not  been  purchased  in 
the  autumn,  it  will  be  necessary  to  remedy  this  neglect  after  the 
severity  of  the  cold  is  past  in  the  spring.  At  this  season,  bees 
which  are  in  good  condition  will  get  into  the  fields  early  in  the 
morning,  return  loaded,  enter  boldly,  and  do  not  come  out  of  the 
hive  in  bad  weather,  for  when  they  do,  this  indicates  that  they 


HOW  VO  UK  STOCK  IS  TO  BE  OBTAINED. 


43 


are  in  great  want  of  provisions.  They  are  alert  on  the  least  dis- 
turbance, and  by  the  loudness  of  their  humming  we  judge  of 
their  strength.  They  preserve  their  hives  free  from  all  filth,  and 
are  ready  to  defend  it  against  every  enemy  that  approaches. 

“ The  summer  is  an  improper  time  for  buying  bees,  because 
the  heat  of  the  weather  softens  the  wax,  and  thereby  renders 
the  comb  liable  to  break,  if  they  are  not  very  well  secured.  The 
honey,  too,  being  then  thinner  than  at  other  times,  is  more  apt 
to  run  out  at  the  cells,  which  is  attended  with  a double  disad- 
vantage— viz.,  the  loss  of  the  honey,  and  the  daubing  of  the 
bees — whereby  many  of  them  may  be  destroyed.  A first  and 
strong  swarm  may  indeed  be  purchased  : and,  if  leave  can  be 
obtained,  permitted  to  stand  in  the  same  garden  until  the  autumn  ; 
but  if  leave  is  not  obtained,  it  may  be  carried  away  in  the  night, 
after  it  has  been  hived. 

“ I suppose  that  in  the  stocks  purchased,  the  bees  are  in  the 
hives  of  the  old  construction.  The  only  directions  here  necessary 
are,  that  the  first  swarm  from  these  stocks  should  be  put  into  one 
of  my  hives ; and  that  another  of  my  hives  should,  in  a few 
days,  be  put  under  the  old  stock,  in  order  to  prevent  its  swrarming 
again.” 

Nor  can  I very  well  leave  Wildman,  without  saying  something 
of  the  “ Count  de  la  Bourdonnaye,”  so  frequently  quoted  by  him 
in  his  “Account  of  Bees.”  M.  de  la  Bourdonnaye  is  justly 
entitled  to  our  gratitude  and  remembrance  as  the  original  inventor 
of  the  caped  or  capped  hives ; a most  useful  contrivance,  and 
one  which  I have  already  described. 

“ Count  de  la  Bourdonnaye’s  hives  are  made  of  straw,  divided 
into  two  parts,  which  are  placed  one  over  the  other.  Each 
of  these  parts  is  thirteen  inches  in  diameter  in  the  inside,  and 
twelve  inches  high ; so  that  when  joined,  they  make  a hive 
twenty-two  inches  in  height.  They  are  nearly  flat  on  the  top, 
and  have  in  the  middle  of  the  top  a hole  an  inch  and  a quarter 
square.  The  upper  half  rests  on  the  lower.  They  are  made  of 
sufficient  thickness  to  be  proof  against  cold,  and  not  to  be  heated 
by  the  rays  of  the  sun.  When  united,  their  joining  is  luted  close.” 

So  then  the  origin  of  our  modern  caps  is  to  be  referred  to  a 
period  of  upwards  of  ninety  years  ago ! I may,  however,  ob- 
serve that  proper  fitting  of  the  upper  portion,  or  cap,  upon  the 
lower  portions  or  true  hive  will  quite  do  away  with  the  necessity 
of  luting. 


44 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SWARMINC*. 

Bees  multiply,  during  the  breeding  season,  with  astonishing 
rapidity ; it  is,  therefore,  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  young 
brood  should  speedily  produce  crowding  in  the  hive,  thus  be- 
coming not  only  inconvenienced  for  room,  but  more  than  agreeably 
warm  : it  is  also  supposed  that  the  queen  becomes  alarmed  at 
the  number  and  progress  to  maturity  of  the  royal  larvae,  which 
indeed  she  would  fain  kill,  were  not  she  prevented  from  doing  so 
by  the  workers.  While  swarming  is  by  no  means  to  be  forced , 
yet  if  symptoms  of  a swarm  present  themselves,  early,  say  in 
April  or  May,  you  may  permit  it  to  take  place — provided  the 
parent  stock  be  still  sufficiently  strong  in  numbers — otherwise  it 
is  of  course  highly  disadvantageous  to  the  well-being  of  the  hive 
as  well  as  to  the  emigrants.  I disapprove  altogether  of  late 
swarms,  i.  e.,  allowing  them  to  come  off*  in  July  or  August — 
hence  the  utility  of  such  hives  as  place  this  circumstance  under 
the  control  of  the  keeper. 

The  most  certain  indications  of  swarming  are,  the  hive  ap- 
pearing full  of  bees — clusters  of  them  gathering  on  the  outside, 
and  sometimes  hanging  from  the  alighting-board  ; they  also  ne- 
glect their  daily  toil  and  refrain  from  going  abroad  in  search  of 
sweets,  even  though  the  weather  be  ever  so  inviting.  Just  be- 
fore they  take  flight  the  hive  is  hushed,  the  bees  are  silent  and 
carefully  loading  themselves  with  provender  for  their  journey. 
For  two  or  three  nights  prior  to  swarming,  you  will  also  hear  a 
peculiar  humming  noise  within  the  hive ; the  second  swarm  is 
announced  by  a different  sort  of  buzzing,  being,  according  to 
some  writers,  the  result  of  a contest  as  to  which  of  the  two 
queens  shall  lead  off  from  the  hive.  It  is  the  old  queen  who 
leads  off  the  first  swarm. 

If  a swarm  be  about  to  quit  the  hive,  the  slightest  change  of 
weather  will  prevent  their  doing  so  ; but  nothing  so  effectually  as 
a shower  of  rain : hence  an  excellent  mode  of  preventing  it, 
when  the  bees  cluster  on  the  outside  of  the  hive,  by  syringing 
them  with  water  from  a common  metallic  syringe.  When  a 
swrarm  leaves  the  hive,  if  it  do  not  settle  on  some  tree  or  bush, 
but  remains  in  the  air,  and  you  fear  its  going  off  to  too  great  a 


SWARMING. 


45 


distance,  if  not  evading  you  altogether,  you  may  bring  it  down 
by  throwing  up  sand  or  dust,  which  the  bees  mistake  for  rain,  or 
by  firing  a gun,  which  they  mistake  for  thunder  ; hefhce  the  old 
fashion  of  the  country- people  following  a swarm  with  the  noise 
of  fire-shovels  and  frying-pans.  You  must  be  the  more  diligent 
in  at  once  securing  your  swarm,  for  it  is  a fact  that  the  bees  send 
out  scouts  previous  to  swarming,  whose  duty  it  is  to  select  a 
proper  habitation  for  the  colony.  It  is,  on  this  account,  a good 
plan,  when  you  anticipate  a swarm,  to  leave  an  empty  hive,  pre- 
viously smeared  on  the  interior  with  honey,  in  some  convenient 
place,  but  not  too  near  the  old  one. 

When  the  swarm  settles,  the  bees  collect  themselves  in  a heap 
round  the  queen,  hanging  to  each  other  by  means  of  their  feet. 
When  thus  suspended  from  a tree,  they  may  be  secured  by  sim- 
ply holding  an  empty  hive  under  them,  and  tapping  the  branch 
from  which  they  are  suspended.  They  should,  in  this  case, 
be  sprinkled  with  honey  and  water,  and  confined  for  about  twelve 
hours.  When  a swarm  divides  into  two  or  more  bands,  and 
settle  separately,  it  is  probable  that  there  are  two  queens.  In 
this  case  you  must  secure  one  of  them. 

If  through  your  inattention,  a second  swarm  comes  off,  you 
should,  as  soon  as  you  have  hived  it,  secure  its  queen,  and  return 
the  swarm  to  the  hive ; indeed,  when  deprived  of  its  queen,  it 
will  usually  immediately  return  of  its  own  accord.  Swarming  is 
a subject  I have  reason  to  believe  is  very  generally  misunderstood, 
most  persons  desiring  to  promote  it,  conceiving  that  the  greater 
number  of  swarms,  the  richer  will  the  hives  be  in  August.  The 
very  reverse  of  this  is  the  case ; for  vrhen  a hive  is  weak  in  num- 
bers, a sufficient  number  of  bees  cannot  be  spared  to  go  forth  for 
honey ; and,  hence,  they  will  be  scarcely  able  to  collect  enough 
for  their  actual  support,  far  less  to  collect  any  surplus  for  their 
master’s  benefit.  Hear  Mr.  Briggs : — 

“ The  swarming  of  bees  is  a subject  on  which  much  miscon- 
ception prevails.  Most  persons  who  keep  their  bees  in  the  old 
straw-hive  plan,  and  suffocating  system,  appear  to  anticipate 
their  swarming  with  much  anxiety,  and  to  be  of  opinion  that  the 
greater  number  of  swarms — firsts,  seconds,  thirds,  &c. — that  they 
obtain  from  their  old  hives  during  the  summer,  the  more  remu- 
nerative will  they  prove  to  the  owner  at  the  end  of  the  season ; 
whereas  the  reverse  of  the  above  practice  is  much  nearer  of 
being  the  best  system  to  follow,  which  I shall  endeavor  to  eluci- 


40 


TITE  IIIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


date.  It  has  been  proved  from  observation,  that  the  average  per 
centage  of  swarms  have  been — twenty-four  in  May,  sixty  in  June, 
fourteen  in  July,  and  two  in  August ; from  which  it  will  appear 
that  June  is  the  principal  month  for  swarming,  in  ordinary  sea- 
sons; and  it  is  in  June  and  July  that  the  greatest  quantities  of 
honey  are  stored  up  by  the  bees,  when  managed  in  a judicious 
manner. 

“ When  the  swarming  is  assisted  and  encouraged  during  June 
and  July,  the  old  stocks  are  considerably  weakened,  and  the 
swarms  are  employed  in  building  combs  in  their  new  hives,  col- 
lecting pollen,  and  attending  to  the  young  brood,  until  the  best 
part  of  the  honey-storing  season  is  over  ; so  that,  at  the  honey 
harvest  in  autumn,  it  will  frequently  require  the  contents  of  five 
or  six  old  stocks,  or  late  swarms,  to  produce  as  much  pure  honey 
as  might  have  been  obtained  from  one  colony  on  the  system  of 
management  which  is  recommended.” 

In  collateral  boxes,  and  in  capped  hives,  swarming  may  be 
prevented  by  affording  the  bees  additional  accommodation,  and 
reducing  the  temperature  ; and  for  this  end,  it  is  recommended, 
by  most  apiarians,  that  the  hive  or  box  should  be  furnished  with 
a thermometer  as  well  as  ventilator.  I think,  however,  that 
even  those  who  do  not  possess  these  accommodations  may  man- 
age well  enough  by  proper  observation  and  attention  to  the 
symptoms  I have  detailed.  When  these  appear  in  a collateral 
box- hive,  open  one  of  the  partitions,  and  admit  the  bees  into  a 
new  apartment ; if  all  be  full,  take  off  a box,  empty  and  restore 
it.  In  the  case  of  a capped  hive,  remove  the  bung,  and  admit 
the  bees  to  the  cap  ; if  full,  remove,  empty,  and  restore  it.  On 
this  subject,  Mr.  Briggs  says  : — “ The  most  favorable  degrees  of 
heat  for  the  prosperity  of  the  brood  are  from  75°  to  90°  in  the 
stock  hive,  and  from  65°  to  75°  in  the  side  boxes.  The  heat  in 
a prosperous  hive  is  sometimes  upwards  of  70°  at  Christmas,  and 
will,  in  hot  summer  weather,  sometimes  rise  to  near  120°,  at 
which  time  the  combs  are  in  great  danger  of  being  damaged, 
and  of  falling  to  the  floor  of  the  hive  ; this  may,  however,  be 
prevented,  by  giving  extra  room  when  required,  and  by  shading 
the  hives  from  extreme  heat  as  previously  directed.  It  should 
always  be  borne  in  mind  that  all  operations  with  bees  should  be 
performed  as  carefully  and  as  speedily  as  circumstances  will  per- 
mit. The  late  Mr.  T.  Nutt  remarked,  in  a conversation  with 
him  a few  months  previous  to  his  decease,  ‘ that  in  removing 


SWARMING. 


47 


boxes,  glasses,  slides,  &c.,  the  apiarian  should  proceed  in  a man- 
ner so  steady  and  cautious,  that  the  bees  should  scarcely  know 
that  their  habitation  had  been  meddled  with in  which  remarks 
I fully  concur.” 

After  having  a new  swarm,  you  must  also  recollect,  that  if 
unfavorable  weather  follow  their  departure,  you  must  feed  them, 
otherwise  they  will  be  starved ; indeed  it  would  be  well  if  each 
new  swarm  were  always  fed  for  a few  days,  as  this  will  assist 
them  in  gaining  strength  in  numbers  and  in  store,  before  the 
principal  part  of  the  honey  season  goes  over.  In  conclusion  I 
would  merely  say,  that  the  weight  of  a good  swarm  should  be 
from  five  to  seven  pounds,  and  that  all  under  five  pounds  in 
weight  should  be  united  to  others,  as  being  too  weak  in  numbers 
to  support  themselves. 

You  shall  receive  instructions  for  uniting  swarms  in  the  next 
chapter,  as  the  process  is  the  same  as  that  adopted  in  depriving 
a hive  of  its  honey.  In  hiving  a swarm  it  is  as  well  to  be  pro- 
tected with  a proper  bee  dress,  as  well  as  to  use  such  precau- 
tions as  you  will  find  detailed  in  a subsequent  chapter  when  treat- 
ing of  the  honey  harvest.  Prevention  is  better  than  cure , and  it 
is  better  to  be  sure  than  sorry  ; yet  bees  are  certainly  less  apt  to 
sting  at  this  time  than  any  other. 

Some  persons  are  particularly  unhappy  in  possessing  those 
qualities  which  render  them  disagreeable  to  bees.  The  main  ob- 
jections are,  excessive  timidity,  and  likewise,  with  some  an  un- 
pleasant odor,  in  some  instances  the  result  of  personal  negli- 
gence, but  frequently  of  peculiarity  of  constitution.  The  remedies 
are,  a bee-dress  for  the  former,  and  the  use  of  some  strong  per- 
fume which  the  bees  like,  and  which  will  effectually  conceal 
whatever  is  offensive  to  them. 

“ I have  gone  among  them,”  says  Mr.  Worlidge,  in  their 
greatest  anger  and  madness,  only  with  a handful  of  sweet  herbs 
in  my  hand,  fanning  about  my  face,  as  it  were  to  obscure  and 
defend  it.  Also,  if  a bee  do  by  accident  buzz  about  you,  being 
unprovided,  thrust  your  face  amongst  a parcel  of  boughs  or 
herbs,  and  he  will  desert  you.  But  the  most  secure  way  of  all, 
and  beyond  the  completest  harness  yet  published,  is  to  have  a 
net  knit  with  so  small  meshes,  that  a bee  cannot  pass  through, 
and  of  fine  thread  or  silk,  large  enough  to  go  over  your  hat,  and 
to  lie  down  to  the  collar  of  your  dress,  through  winch  you  may 


48 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


perfectly  see  what  you  do,  without  danger,  having  also  on  a pair 
•)f  gloves,  whereof  woollen  are  the  best.” 

Some  writers  on  bee  management  have  suggested  other  modes 
to  prevent  objectionable  swarming,  besides  the  collateral  boxes 
and  the  capped  hive.  Among  these  plans  I may  mention  stori- 
(yinrj  or  piling,  and  eking.  The  latter  is  speedily  disposed  of ; 
it  consists  of  adding  ekes , or  additional  bands  of  straw  to  the 
bottom  of  the  common  hive,  according  as  additional  room  was 
required.  The  objection  is,  that  although  it  may  thus  answer 
your  purpose  during  one  season,  the  next  finds  you  in  as  much 
perplexity  as  ever. 

Storifying  requires  some  notice,  as  it  is  a custom  of  very  con- 
siderable antiquity,  and  also  as  it  is  a practice  that  has  been  ap- 
proved by  such  eminent  bee-masters  as  Warder,  Thorley,  and 
more  recently  by  Dr.  Bevan. 

The  principal  objections  to  the  storified  hive  are — 

1st,  Its  occasioning  the  bees  greater  trouble  and  labor,  and 
hence  rendering  their  labor  less  productive. 

2d,  The  absence  of  provision  for  dividing  the  ordinary  cells 
from  the  more  sacred  and  mysterious  operations  of  the  queen, 
and  of  course  a consequent  deterioration  of  the  honey  in  respect 
of  purity ; besides  much  inconvenience  and  waste  of  time  to  the 
poor  bees,  which  certainly  should  be  taken  into  consideration.  A 
laden  bee  cannot  mount  up  from  one  box  to  another,  and  through 
a labyrinth  of  comb,  with  anything  like  comfort  or  ease. 

3d,  In  taking  a box  of  honey,  the  proprietor  cannot  be  cer- 
tain of  not  taking  away  a quantity  of  brood-comb,  &c.  This 
objection,  however,  may  be  classed  with  that  Avhich  rests  on  the 
impurity  of  the  honey,  except  with  the  additional  one,  that  this 
also  refers  to  loss  of  life,  which  the  bees,  both  brood  and  adult, 
must  thus  sustain.  And, 

4th,  In.  consequence  of  these  objectionable  circumstances, 
which  are  the  inevitable  consequences  of  the  piling  system,  the 
profit  accruing  from  such  management  will  be  far  inferior  to  that 
obtainable  by  the  system  I have  already  recommended. 

A very  eminent  writer  on  bee  management  says — “ In  piled 
boxes  bees  are  subjected  to  unnecessary  labor,  which  is  so  far  a 
waste  of  time.  From  piled  boxes  not  nearly  the  quantity  of 
honey  and  wax  is  procured,  that  may  be  procured  from  collate- 
ral boxes;  nor  is  that  deficient  quantity  of  a quality  at  all  com- 
parable with  the  other.  In  managing  piled  boxes  many  bees  are 


THE  IIONEY  HARVEST 


49 


destroyed.  These  are  my  objections  to  that  system  of  bee  man- 
agement ; and  I put  it  to  every  person  who  has  practised  stori- 
fying  to  say  whether  they  are  not  well  founded.” 

It  sometimes,  but  very  rarely,  happens,  that  a swarm  is  almost 
wholly,  if  not  altogether,  composed  of  an  entirely  new  genera- 
tion of  bees,  but  usually  old  and  young  go  forth  together.  You 
may  distinguish  the  young  from  the  old  by  the  intensity  of  their 
coloring,  the  latter  being  of  a deeper  red.  The  swarm  is  usually 
led  forth  by  a young  queen  ; but  at  all  events  the  bees  never  swarm 
unless  led  by  a queen,  and  sometimes  by  two  or  even  three.  In 
this  case  the  supernumerary  sovereigns  are  put  to  death  by  the 
workers.  Sometimes,  indeed,  instead  of  the  supernumerary  queens 
being  destroyed,  the  swarm  divides,  and  a portion  follows  each 
monarch,  and  sometimes  the  queens  themselve?  do  battle  for  the 
throne.  The  destruction  of  the  supernumerar  .es  by  the  workers 
is,  however,  the  most  common  case. 

Battles  also  will  frequently  occur  in  consequence  of  a swarm 
seizing  upon  a habitation  already  occupied  by  other  bees,  or  two 
swarms  simultaneously  selecting  a similar  place  of  abode.  The 
attack  is  said  to  be  usually  begun  by  the  queens,  with  what  truth, 
however,  I am  unprepared  to  say. 

Having  now  suggested  all  that  occurs  to  me  interesting,  or 
profitable  for  you  to  know,  on  the  subject  of  swarming,  we  shall 
leave  the  bees  at  work,  and  in  the  next  chapter  presume  matters 
ripe  and  ready  for  the  “ honey  harvest.” 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  HONEY  HARVEST. 

Those  who  possess  collateral  boxes  may  begin  taking  a box  or 
a bell  glass  very  early  in  the  season,  indeed  even  so  early  as  May 
or  June;  this  must  be,  of  course,  dependent  on  the  state  of  af- 
fairs, and  on  their  own  discretion.  Those  who  keep  their  bees  in 
the  capped  hive,  may  also  get  a cap  full  of  honey  in  or  about 
the  middle  of  June — I do  not  call  this  the  “ honev  harvest.”  I 
allude  to  the  grand  deprivation  that  should  take  place  in  the  be- 
ginning or  middle  of  Aagust,  ere  commencing  other  operations 
still  to  be  explained. 

3 


50 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-1  iE. 


I may  observe  with  reference  to  the  collateral  hives  that  no  in- 
structions of  mine  are  necessary  further  than  those  already  given 
when  describing  the  mechanism  of  Mr.  Nutt’s  boxes.  You  who 
possess  these  admirable  contrivances  will  have  little  or  no  trouble 
— a child  could  manage  them,  and  long  ere  this  (August)  you 
have  already  begun  to  gather  your  delicious  harvest.  You  have, 
of  course,  had  more  than  one  bell-glass  full,  and  possibly  a box 
of  pure  honey  removed  in  May.  You  have'  certainly  obtained, 
at  least,  one  box  in  June  ; but  I should  rather  imagine  that  you 
have,  during  that  month,  obtained  both  the  side  boxes  full  of  ho- 
ney. You  must  now,  however,  act  with  caution,  and  recollect 
that  wet,  damp  weather  is  unfavorable  to  the  operations  of  the 
bees ; they  cannot  go  abroad  to  collect  their  treasure,  and  you 
must  avoid  trespassing  too  much  upon  their  stores  in  such  wea- 
ther. 

The  old  mode  of  obtaining  the  honey  was,  by  the  suffocation 
of  the  inmates  of  the  hive.  I fear  I need  scarcely  tell  the  ma- 
jority of  my  bee-keeping  readers,  but  sincerely  hope  I am  wrong, 
that  this  used  to  be  effected  by  digging  a hole  in  the  ground, 
placing  therein  a bundle  of  matches,  or  scraps  of  tow  dipped  in 
sulphur,  igniting  these,  and  setting  the  hive,  covered  with  a thick 
cloth  over  it,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  evening.  The  fumes  of 
the  sulphur  soon  caused  death,  and  the  honey  was  removed  af- 
terwards at  pleasure.  Whatever  others  may  think  or  write,  I 
must  assert  is  my  own  opinion  that  this  is  a most  barbarous  prac- 
tice ; and  it  is  as  silly  as  it  is  cruel.  You,  if  you  act  thus,  ef- 
fectually prevent  the  fulfillment  of  what  should  be  your  chief 
object,  viz.,  the  increase  of  your  stock,  you  also  impregnate  your 
honey  with  filthy  vapors,  and  seriously  injure  its  quality  by  the 
dead  bodies,  which  you  thus  cause  to  be  intermingled  with  the 
combs. 

Mr.  Huisli  recommended  dried  rags,  or  leaves,  to  be  employed 
instead  of  sulphur,  the  smoke  from  these  only  producing  partial 
stupefactions  from  which  the  bees  subsequently  recovered,  when 
the  surviving  stock  was  united  to  some  other  weak  hive  in  the 
apiary. 

It  is  a long  time  indeed  since  Wildman,  White,  and  others, 
showed  that  the  honey  could  be  taken,  even  from  a common 
straw  hive,  without  injury  to  the  inmates.  Without,  however, 
wearying  my  readers  with  an  investigation  of  the  several  ap- 
proved methods  of  doing  this,  I shall  briefly  direct  them  as  to 


THE  HONEY  HARVEST.  51 

the  manner  in  which  I,  myself,  recommend  this  very  simple 
process  to  be  performed. 

“Fumigation”  is  a word  employed  by  bee-keepers  to  express 
the  process  in  which,  by  the  aid  of  certain  intoxicating  smoke , 
the  insects  become  temporarily  stupefied,  in  which  state  they  are 
perfectly  harmless,  and  may  be  deprived  of  their  honey  without 
any  risk  or  trouble.  They  subsequently  soon  recover  from  their 
stupefaction,  and  are  nothing  the  worse  for  it.  Indeed,  as  Mr. 
Cotton  quaintly  observes,  this  intoxication  proves,  contrary  to  its 
effects  in  the  case  of  man,  rather  salutary  than  otherwise.  The 
dried  Fungus  Pulvurulentus , or  fuzz  ball ; the  Bovista  gigantea, 
or  frog-cheese,  will  be  found  best  for  that  purpose : but,  in  their 
absence,  rags  steeped  in  a solution  of  saltpetre,  or  a few  tobacco 
leaves,  wrapped  in  brown  paper,  will  do  nearly  as  well.  If 
tobacco  be  used,  care  is  necessary,  lest  the  fumigation  be  carried 
to  too  great  an  extent,  so  as  to  cause  the  djeath  of  some  or  all  of 
your  stock.  Persons  not  accustomed  to  deal  with  bees,  should 
wear  an  over-all  of  thin  gauze  over  the  head  and  breast,  and 
gloves  on  their  hands.  With  this,  and  a little  bottle  in  their 
waistcoat-pocket,  containing  aqua  ammonise,  or  aqua  potassae,  to 
be  used  in  case  of  accident,  they  need  have  no  cause  for  trepida- 
tion, but  can  go  to  work  with  coolness  and  deliberation. 

There  should  be  provided,  for  the  purpose  of  fumigation,  a 
small  tin  box,  with  a tube  extending  from  each  of  two  opposite 
ends ; one  end  of  this  tube  being  so  fashioned  that  it  can  readily 
be  inserted  into  the  hive,  and  the  other  so  formed,  that  it  can 
readily  be  attached  to  the  tube  of  an  ordinary  bellows.  The  box 
should  be  so  formed  that  it  can  be  opened  at  pleasure. 

In  this  box  the  matter  to  be  employed  in  fumigation  is  first 
placed,  having,  of  course,  been  previously  ignited,  and  the  proper 
end  of  the  tube  having  been  inserted  into  the  hive  at  the  lower 
part,  ply  the  bellows  very  gently.  The  bees  begin  at  once  to 
feel  the  effects  of  the  smoke.  At  first,  you  will  hear  an  unusual 
humming  and  commotion,  but  in  less  than  ten  minutes  all  will 
be  still.  The  bees  will  fall  upon  the  board  under  the  hive,  and 
lie  quite  still,  as  if  dead.  The  hive  may  then  be  removed,  and 
a fresh  hive — the  interior  well  smeared  with  honey — may  be 
placed  over  them,  or  they  may  be  united  to  another  stock,  which 
should  also  be  previously  fumigated,  one  queen  being  removed. 

Some  persons  may  conceive  it  to  be  a difficult  matter  to  come 
at  the  queen.  When  fumigation  is  resorted  to,  she  is,  of  coa  se, 


62 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE, 


easily  discovered ; but  even  when  it  is  dispensed  with,  and  th* 
practice  adopted  which  I have  yet  to  describe,  she  is  not  so  very 
difficult  to  come  at ; for,  on  a hive  being  turned  up  and  tapped, 
the  queen  is  among  the  first,  if  not  indeed  the  very  first,  who 
makes  her  appearance,  as  if  to  discover  the  occasion  of  the  un- 
wonted disturbance  ; the  dusk  of  an  autumnal  evening  answers 
best  for  this  purpose.  The  queen  usually  lodges  near  the  crown 
of  the  hive,  and  is,  when  fumigation  is  resorted  to,  one  of  the 
last  to  fall  ; she  will,  consequently,  in  this  case,  be  found  amongst 
the  uppermost  bees.  In  practising  fumigation,  two  persons  should 
act  in  concert,  each  taking  a hive,  and  operating  upon  it,  in  order 
that  both  stocks  should  be  simultaneously  in  a similar  condition 
as  to  intoxication.  I may  add,  that  in  fumigation,  the  hive  must 
be  well  covered  with  a cloth,  to  prevent  the  escape  of  the  smoke. 
When  you  have  united  the  two  stocks  in  the  manner  I have  de- 
scribed, it  is  advisable  to  confine  the  insects  to  their  hive  for  that 
night  and  the  following  day.  Do  not,  however,  wholly  deprive 
them  of  air  in  doing  so,  or  you  may  smother  them.  On  the 
evening  of  the  following  day,  about  dusk,  uncover  the  hive,  and 
open  the  entrance.  The  bees  will  probably  at  first  tumultuously 
issue  forth,  but  finding  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  will  as  hastily 
return.  Let  me  here  forewarn  my  readers  to  be  more  cautious 
on  this  than  perhaps  any  other  occasion,  as  the  bees  will  doubt- 
less be  very  indignant  at  the  manner  in  which  they  have  been 
treated.  They  are  naturally  a very  irritable  insect,  and  if  they 
find  you  near  them  and  unprotected  when  they  sally  forth,  they 
will  be  apt  to  attack  you  in  a body.  The  sting  of  a bee  is  not 
only  very  painful,  but  even  sometimes  seriously  dangerous. 

The  most  suitable  period  of  the  year  for  uniting  weak  with 
strong  stocks  is  from  the  middle  of  August  to  the  latter  part  of 
September.  This,  however,  is  not  a proper  time  to  remove  stocks 
from  straw  hives  to  boxes,  for  the  season  is  too  far  advanced. 
When  taken  from  their  warm  hive,  and  removed  into  a cold  box, 
bees  rarely  recover  from  the  effects  of  the  fumigation  sufficiently 
to  resume  business.  May  or  June  is  the  best  time  for  this  removal, 
or  perhaps  still  earlier,  say  the  beginning  of  April,  before  the 
eggs  of  the  queen  bee  have  attained  the  stage  of  larvae.  If  the 
operation  be  performed  in  cold  or  even  cool  weather,  it  is  recom- 
mended by  Nutt  to  do  so  “in  a room  where  the  temperature  is 
about  60  degrees.”  Twelve  hours  or  thereabouts  suffice  for  the 


THE  HONEY  HARVEST. 


53 


recovery  of  the  bees,  and  they  may  then  be  removed  with  safety 
to  their  ordinary  stand. 

Various  other  precautions  besides  outer  clothing  are  recom- 
mended by  writers  on  bee  management — such,  for  instance,  as 
taking  a short  pipe  in  the  mouth,  and  smoking  during  the  opera- 
tion : every  one  does  not,  however,  smoke.  Others  recommend 
taking  a drink  of  ale  previous  to  commencing.  Others  again 
recommend  rubbing  the  face  and  hands  with  ale  or  beer ; for  my 
own  part,  I do  not  see  any  absolute  necessity  for  the  adoption  of 
any  of  these  measures,  if  the  protecting  overall  be  used  ; but  if 
I were  to  recommend  any,  it  would  be  that  spoken  of  by  Mr. 
Briggs — viz.,  water  to  which  a small  quantity  of  creosote  has 
been  added.  Mr.  Briggs  adds,  “ The  juice  of  the  Black  ocy mum, 
or  Indian  bazil,  is  also  strongly  recommended  for  the  same  pur- 
pose ; and  it  is  said  that  the  bees  will  not  go  near  to  a person 
whose  skin  has  been  recently  rubbed  with  it.  It  is,  I suppose, 
unnecessary  to  observe,  that  aqua  potasses  will  answer  the  same 
purpose,  and  fully  as  well.  These  remedies  will  likewise  be  found 
equally  efficacious  for  the  sting  of  that  wolf  of  insects — the 
ferocious  and  formidable  wasp.  It  may  be  as  well  that  I wind  up 
my  observations  on  fumigation  with  a few  directions  for  the  pre- 
paration of  the  fuzz  balls  for  that  purpose. 

Put  the  ball  into  a piece  of  stout  paper,  and  compress  it  as 
tightly  as  you  can ; tie  it  closely  up  in  this  condition,  and  put  it 
;n  a moderately  cool  oven,  about  as  cool  as  that  from  which 
bread  has  just  been  withdrawn — let  it  remain  there  until  it  will 
serve  as  tinder.  The  quantity  of  the  prepared  fungus  necessary 
for  the  fumigation  of  a hive  is  a piece  of  about  the  size  of  a hen’s 
egg — less  may , in  some  instances,  answer  ; but  it  is  unquestiona- 
bly better  to  have  too  much  than  too  little.  I should  have  ob- 
served, that,  prior  to  union,  even  where  fumigation  has  been  em- 
ployed, the  sprinkling  with  liquid  honey  should  not,  on  any  ac- 
count, be  omitted. 

The  system  which  dispenses  altogether  with  fumigation,  called 
tapping  or  “ Driving,”  is  spoken  of  favorably  by  many  writers ; 
it  is  as  follows  : — 

When  twilight  appears,  you  will  find  the  bees  all  quietly  re- 
posing in  the  hive  ; let  whoever  is  in  the  habit  of  tending  the 
bees  be  the  agent  in  the  process ; no  assistance  is  necessary  ; let 
him  or  her  take  an  old  chair  from  which  the  bottom  has  been 
either  worn  or  cut  away — but  a worn  one  is  best,  as  it  best  fits 


54 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE 


the  reversed  hive ; turn  up  the  hive  on  the  chair,  and  place  over 
it  an  empty  one,  which  you  have  previously  smeared  interiorly 
with  honey,  or  sugar  dissolved  in  water ; wrap  a cloth  round  the 
point  of  junction  for  the  first  few  minutes,  and,  with  a stick,  tap 
the  reversed  hive  round  the  sides,  beginning  near  the  bottom,  and 
gradually  ascending  in  your  strokes  towards  the  top  ; let  your 
strokes  be  not  too  rough,  lest  you  loosen  the  combs  ; still,  how- 
ever, these  are  far  more  firmly  attached  than  non-practical 
writers  are  aware  of. 

Ere  you  have  been  long  thus  employed,  you  will  hear  a hum- 
ming noise,  and  presently  the  disturbed  bees,  more  than  half 
asleep,  will  mount  into  the  upper  hive.  If  the  ascent  of  the  bees 
appear  checked  ere  all  have  left  the  lower  hive,  remove  the  cloth, 
which,  by  the  way,  is,  once  the  ascent  has  commenced,  no  longer 
necessary,  and  raise  the  upper  hive  an  inch  or  so  above  the  low- 
er. This  will  be  found  to  facilitate  the  emigration,  and  will  be 
unattended  with  danger.  The  lower  hive  being  fully  deserted, 
place  that  containing  the  bees  on  the  stand.  Some  like  to  close 
the  aperture  for  a short  time  ; but  I conceive  such  procedure  to 
be  useless,  as,  at  that  hour,  the  insects  are  too  sleepy,  too  stupid, 
to  have  any  desire  to  stir  abroad  ; and  on  the  morrow  will  pro- 
ceed to  their  ordinary  avocations,  as  if  nothing  had  occurred. 
This  resumption,  however,  of  the  insects’  ordinary  avocations, 
will  not  take  place  unless  the  above  operation  be  performed  early 
in  the  season. 

The  most  secure  mode  of  procedure,  and  the  most  approved,  is, 
to  unite  these  exiled  bees  with  those  of  another  hive.  You  must 
always,  be  it  remembered,  leave  your  bees  a sufficient  store  of 
honey  as  food.  This  is  usually  done  by  setting  apart  what  is 
called  a stock-hive — a hive  well  filled  with  honey,  and  capable  of 
containing  and  supporting  more  bees.  Turn  up  this  stock-hive  ; 
sprinkle  its  drowsy  inmates,  or  rather  drench  them,  with  sugar 
or  honey,  dissolved  in  water.  Do  the  same  with  your  exiles  ; 
and  once  again  invert  the  abode  of  the  latter  over  the  mouth  of 
your  inverted  stock-hive.  Proceed  in  other  respects  as  you  did 
before ; and  by  tapping  drive  them  down.  The  two  families 
speedily  recover  from  their  surprise,  and  the  agreeable  employ- 
ment afforded  to  all  their  individual  members,  of  licking  the  re- 
sults of  your  sprinkling  from  each  other’s  bodies,  will  soon  pro- 
duce friendliness,  meanwhile  the  ode:  of  the  liquid  with  which 
you  have  saturated  them,  will  prevent  their  distinguishing 


THE  HONEY  HARVEST. 


65 


bciwixt  stranger  and  comrade.  Of  course  you  have  previously 
taken  the  precaution  of  removing  the  queen  of  the  swarm  to  be 
united  to  the  stock  hive.  Some  recommend  permitting  the  rival 
queens  to  “ fight  it  out.”  This  is  too  apt  to  occasion  a general 
affray,  which  can  readily  be  avoided  by  the  plan  I mention.  The 
whole  procedure  will  not  occupy  above  half  an  hour,  if  indeed  so 
much.  You  need  be  under  no  apprehension  of  being  stung. 
The  bees  are  too  sleepy,  too  lethargic,  too  much  fatigued  after 
their  day’s  toil  to  care  for  you.  In  order  to  inspire  you  with 
confidence,  let  me  call  to  your  recollection  the  lethargic  condition 
of  common  house-flies  on  a ceiling,  in  a summer  or  autumn  even- 
ing. The  bees  are  similarly  disposed  ; and  unless  you  clumsily 
crush  some  of  them  in  your  hand,  they  will  not  take  the  trouble 
of  hurting  you.  If  you  be  so  very  clumsy  as  to  do  so,  you  have 
only  yourself  to  blame. 

This  is  your  first  harvest : you  may,  by  adopting  the  following 
approved  system  of  management,  obtain  even  a second,  ere  plac- 
ing your  bees  in  their  winter  quarters.  This  latter  operation  is 
termed  “ shifting/’ 

Many  writers  on  bee  management  have  been  in  favor  of  shift- 
ing the  hives  at  certain  periods  of  the  year,  in  order  to  secure  a 
succession  of  food,  according  as  it  fails  in  one  place,  or  proves 
more  abundant  in  another.  One  of  the  earliest  advocates  of  this 
system  was  Columella.  He  founds  his  advice  on  the  observation 
that  scarcely  an}T  one  district  can  afford  an  equally  adequate  sup- 
ply of  pasture  both  in  spring  and  autumn.  Celsus  and  Pliny 
hold  the  same  opinion.  Later  writers  have  also  recommended 
this  removal,  as  A.  de  Montfort,  Maillet,  in  which  they  are  fol- 
lowed by  Wildman  and  others.  This  practice  is  still  extensively 
followed,  and  there  is  still  living  on  the  Pentland  hills  near  Edin- 
burgh, a shepherd,  who  takes  charge  of  upwards  of  a hundred 
hives  annually  for  bee-keepers  living  at  a distance. 

From  the  middle  of  August  to  the  end  of  September  is  the 
usual  time  when  we  perceive  the  food  of  bees  beginning  to  fail 
them.  This  is  the  period  for  removing  them  to  new  pasture, 
which  is  then  in  bloom.  Before  moving,  ascertain  the  condition 
of  your  hives  ; for  these  which  are  well  stocked  with  honey 
should  be  deprived  by  the  process  already  detailed ; and  this 
should  be  done  some  days  prior  to  removal,  for  the  combs  con- 
taining the  yOung  may  have  been  loosened  in  the  operation,  and 


56 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


the  bees  should  be  allowed  time  to  fasten  them  once  (gain  se- 
curely in  their  places. 

“ Water  carriage,  when  procurable,  is  the  best,  as  it  shakes 
the  hives  least ; but  when  land  carriage  must  be  resorted  to,  the 
hives  should  be  carried  on  poles,  slung  on  men’s  shoulders. 
The  journey  should  be  pursued  at  night  only,  and  the  bees  suf- 
fered to  go  forth  and  feed  during  the  day.  Such  is  their  instinct, 
that  they  will  readily  find  their  way  back ; but  they  should  not 
be  suffered  to  go  forth  until  at  the  distance  of  upwards  of  ten  or 
eleven  miles  from  their  original  home,  otherwise  they  will  be  lost 
in  endeavoring  to  regain  it — a moderate  distance  induces  them 
to  abandon  the  idea,  and  to  become  reconciled  to  their  new  quar- 
ters If  traveling  by  canal,  the  hives  should  be  removed  from 
the  boat,  and  placed  on  stands,  at  some  distance  from  the  bank 
ere  the  insects  are  let  out,  otherwise  they  will  be  lost  in  thou- 
sands by  falling  into  the  water  on  their  return.  If  your  weak 
stocks  happen  to  be  placed  near  the  strong  ones  of  some  one  else, 
you  will  stand  a fair  chance  of  having  them  all  killed  in  encoun- 
ters with  their  more  powerful  neighbors.  It  would  be  well  also 
to  see  that  your  hives  are  placed  in  a situation  where  they  will 
be  safe  from  the  attacks  of  cattle  or  other  foes.  Before  fetching 
the  hives  home  again,  it  will  not  be  amiss  to  ascertain  their  con- 
dition and  weight,  and  to  take  from  them  what  honey  they  can 
spare. 

I must  here  inform  you  how  to  ascertain  the  state  or  wealth  of 
a hive.  About  the  middle  of  September  examine  your  hives  ; at 
all  events  do  not,  whatever  be  the  aspect  of  the  season,  neglect 
this  necessary  operation  until  October ; but  if  the  season  appear 
likely  to  turn  out  to  be  a severe  one,  set  about  it  even  earlier 
than  I have  indicated.  But  do  not  mistake  me — I do  not  mean 
that  you  can  deprive  your  bees  of  any  honey  so  late  as  this ; if  I 
said  so,  I should  be  only  instructing  you  in  the  best  and  most  ex- 
peditious method  of  destroying  your  stocks.  I only  mean,  that 
under  certain  circumstances,  and  in  peculiarly  favorable  weather, 
you  may  postpone  until  the  periods  I have  named,  your  final  ex- 
amination of  your  stocks,  in  order  to  ascertain  which  can , and 
which  cannot , support  itself,  unaided  by  you,  during  the  winter 
months. 

In  observatory  hives,  and  such  as  are  formed  on  the  collateral 
box,  or  piled  box  principle,  there  are  usually  such  contrivances  as 
will  admit  of  inspection  of  the  hive  and  its  contents  without  the 


THE  HONEY  HARVEST. 


67 


necessity  of  handling  it.  In  the  ordinary  hive,  however,  we  can- 
not avoid  manually  ascertaining  the  weight  and  condition  of  out 
stock.  In  order  to  do  so,  you  must  previously  have  been  ac- 
quainted with  the  weight  of  your  hive , and  of  the  probable  num- 
ber of  bees  which  it  contains ; and  I may  also  add,  that  it  would 
be  as  well  if  you  had  your  stands  so  contrived  as  to  admit  of  their 
being  raised  with  the  hive  for  the  purpose  of  weighing,  as,  if  you 
forcibly  separate  the  latter  from  the  former,  you  break  the  cemenu 
of  propolis — a substance  I have  yet  to  describe,  which  unites  the 
hive  to  its  position  on  the  stand,  and  puts  the  bees  to  much  un- 
necessary trouble  and  annoyance. 

A hive  should  contain  twenty  pounds  of  honey  for  its  support 
during  winter ; an  increase  of  number  in  the  hive,  produced  by 
uniui , will  not  require  an  increase  of  food.  Precisely  the  con- 
trary is  the  case ; and  the  more  abundant  the  stock  of  the  bees 
in  autumn,  the  richer  and  the  better  able  to  work  will  they  be  in 
spring — the  more  forward,  therefore,  will  they  be  in  summer,  and 
the  greater  will  be  your  profit. 

There  should  be  twenty  pounds  of  honey  left  in  a hive  for  winter 
consumption,  exclusive  of  the  weight  of  both  hive  and  bees.  Of 
course  I cannot  give  you  any  assistance  in  ascertaining  the  weight 
of  the  former,  as  that  feature  must  depend  upon  its  structure, 
&c.,  and  the  materials  of  which  it  is  composed.  But  the  weight 
of  the  bees  themselves  is  quite  a different  matter.  In  lib.  avoir- 
dupois, or  16  oz.,  there  are  about  five  thousand  bees — from  fifteen 
to  twenty  thousand  bees  constitute  a strong  hive,  that  is,  from 
four  to  jive  pounds  in  weight. 

If  you  find,  after  making  these  calculations  and  deductions, 
that  your  stocks  are  under  weight,  you  may  either  supply  them 
with  food  or  unite  two  or  more  together.  I am  in  favor  of  union  ; 
I now  only  speak  with  reference  to  such  persons  as  have  reaped 
a second,  or  perhaps  a third  harvest  from  their  bees.  Had  they 
omitted  the  last,  no  such  care  would  have  been  called  for. 

Mr.  Briggs,  in  a few  words  as  to  autumnal  feeding , says, 
The  hives  should  be  weighed.  Age  will  cause  hives  to  weigh  heavier 
than  their  legitimate  contents  would  call  for ; this  is  occasioned 
by  an  accumulation  of  bee-bread  and  the  cast  sloughs  which  had 
formerly  served  as  envelopes  to  the  young.  In  the  case  of  old 
hives,  you  must,  therefore,  allow  from  two  to  five  pounds,  accord- 
ing to  age,  for  these  matters.  These  substances  require  to  be 
occasionally  removed  from  the  hive,  as  otherwise  they  will  accumu- 


58 


I HE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


late  to  such  an  extent  as  to  render  the  hive  too  small  for  breeding, 
and  your  stock  will  thus  soon  become  extinct.  Spring  is  the 
proper  season  for  removing  these  substances ; the  process  is  very 
simple,  consisting  merely  in  fumigating  the  hives,  and  thus  ren- 
dering the  bees  for  the  time  insensible,  then,  while  they  are  in 
this  state,  turning  up  the  hive  and  cutting  out  a portion  of  the 
old  comb  ; you  should  only  cut  away  half  at  a time.  The  follow- 
ing spring,  perform  the  same  process  ; you  will  find  the  gap  your 
knife  had  made  the  previous  year  completely  restored,  and  you 
may  now  remove  the  remaining  portion  of  old  comb.  By  this 
system  of  constantly  inducing  a renovation  of  the  combs,  you 
will  preserve  your  stock  in  a state  of  perpetual  youth.  Your 
hive,  even  if  made  of  straw,  will  last  for  an  indefinite  length  of 
time  if  protected  externally  by  a thick  coat  of  whitewash,  or, 
which  is  better,  Roman  cement ; do  not  let  any  one  persuade  you 
to  employ  paint  for  this  purpose  ; if  you  do,  you  will  lose  your 
bees.  This  cutting  away  of  the  combs  may  also  be  resorted  to 
in  cases  where  your  hives  are  infested  with  moths ; under  such 
circumstances  you  may  cut  away  all  the  combs  that  contain  the 
larvae  of  those  insects. 

(Every  bee-keeper  should  have  an  ordinary  spatula, 
and  a set  of  bee  knives.  These  should  be  in  the  forms 
of  the  cut.  They  should  be  a foot  long,  beside  the 
handle,  of  metal ; and  the  blades  should  be  so  sharp  as 
to  cut  the  combs  and  not  bruise  or  break  them. 

All  hives  under  the  clear  nett  weight  (bees  and  honey, 
the  hive  and  stand  properly  deducted)  of  20  lbs.  avoir- 
dupois, must  receive  an  allowance  of  food  ; the  exam- 

Lination  to  take  place  at  the  close  of  September.  Honey , 
when  you  have  it  and  can  spare  it,  is,  of  course,  the 
best  food  you  can  give  your  bees,  and  will  not,  as  Mr. 
Huish  has  asserted,  give  bees  the  dysentery  ; but  if  you  cannot 
give  honey,  you  may  form  an  excellent  substitute  by  boiling  ale 
and  sugar  together  gently  in  a clean  and  well-tinned  vessel,  over 
a clear  fire,  for  about  five  minutes.  One  pound  and  a-half  of 
sugar  may  be  added  to  each  quart  of  ale,  and  the  mixture  is  to 
be  skimmed,  according  as  the  scum  rises  to  the  surface  during 
boiling  ; when  the  syrup  is  taken  from  the  fire,  add  to  it  about  a 
teaspoonful  of  common  table-salt  for  each  quart  of  syrup. 

The  cuts  show  a bee  feeder.  There  is  a hole  in  the  centre 
and  tube  in  it.  The  lower  cut  shows  the  feeder  with  a glass  bell 


THE  HONEY  HARVEST. 


59 


over  it.  It  may  either  be  placed  near,  or  on  top  of  the  hive  with 
the  tube  going  into  a hole  in  the  top  ot  the  hive. 

It  is  bad  to  be  compelled  to  feed  bees  in 
the  winter,  as,  by  descending  to  the  bottom 
of  the  hive  in  order  to  get  at  the  food,  they 
expose  themselves  to  cold,  and  many  perish  ; 
by  early  examination  in  autumn,  and  uniting 
weak  hives,  together  with  judicious  feeding 
at  that  season,  if  necessary,  the  winter  man- 
agement will  be  simplified. 

Bees  kept  in  boxes  are  as  liable  as  any 
others  to  the  attacks  of  insects,  mice,  weasels, 
and  other  foes.  In  such  case  the  stand 
should  have  been  removed,  and  traps  or 
poison  used  to  banish  the  vermin.  You  will 
sometimes  find  the  bees  strong  in  numbers, 
yet  poor  in  stores.  This  may  also  be  a re- 
sult of  the  presence  of  moths,  &c.,  in  the 
hive  ; that  should,  therefore,  be  examined, 
and  the  intruders  removed.  Do  not,  on  any 
account,  fumigate  a hive  with  tobacco  or  sulphur  for  the  purpose 
of  expelling  or  destroying  moths  ; for,  if  you  fail  of  destroying 
your  bees  along  with  them,  you  may  safely  calculate  on,  at  all 
events,  rendering  the  honey  injurious  to  them  ; and,  in  some 
cases,  especially  when  tobacco  has  been  used,  absolutely  poisonous. 
Doubtless,  it  was  honey,  impregnated  with  these  deleterious 
fumes,  that  Mr.  Huish  found  to  give  his  bees  the  dysentery. 
When  bees  are  found  to  be  thus  rich  in  numbers  and  poor  in 
store,  it  frequently  happens  that  the  cause  is  the  loss  of  the  queen  ; 
for  if  anything  happen  to  the  sovereign,  the  community  speedily 
decay  away.  The  remedy  in  this  instance  is,  of  course,  union  to 
another  stock.  If  this  occur  in  winter,  I should  recommend  you 
to  unite,  and  feed  abundantly.  Mr.  Nutt,  however,  says,  that 
when  this  occurs  in  winter,  all  your  feeding  will  be  thrown  away, 
and  your  bees  perish,  despite  your  care.  Some  people  also  defer 
feeding  until  the  bees  are  absolutely  in  want.  This  is  very 
wrong ; the  assistance  should  be  rendered  several  weeks  before 
the  hive  is  in  a state  of  positive  destitution,  otherwise,  when  you 
do  feed,  the  bees  will  be  too  weak  to  avail  themselves  of  your 
bounty.  The  good  mode  of  feeding  is,  to  put  the  honey,  or  syrup, 
as  the  case  may  be,  ir  a shallow  box ; lay  over  the  sweet  liquid 


00 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


a sheet  of  strong  paper,  perforated  with  holes,  through  which 
the  bees  can  suck  the  syrup  without  falling  into  the  mess,  or 
becoming  clogged  by  it ; attach  the  box  to  the  mouth  of  the  hive, 
the  bees  will  soon  make  it  out,  enter,  and  remove  the  store  to  their 
cells. 

It  is  bad  to  lift  up  the  hive  for  the  purpose  of  feeding,  as,  by 
so  doing,  you  lower  the  temperature  of  the  interior,  and  often 
destroy  your  stock.  When  the  feeder  is  attached  to  the  entrance 
of  the  hive,  all  this  is  obviated. 


It  is  quite  important  to  the  bee-keeper  to  have  a weighing 
machine.  This  may  consist  of  three  poles  of  wood,  seven  feet 
long,  fastened  by  hinges  to  a triangular  block  of  wood,  six  inches 
on  each  side.  The  poles  must  have  spikes  at  the  lower  end,  to 
stand  firmly  on  the  ground.  To  the  underside  of  the  block  is 
fastened  a pulley  wheel.  Over  this  a cord  passes,  one  end  of 
which  is  held  by  the  hand,  while  to  the  other  is  attached  a spring 
balance,  with  a hook  at  its  end.  The  cut  will  show  the  method 
of  using. 


WINTER  MANAGEMENT. 


61 


CHAPTER  X. 

MANAGEMENT  DURING  WINTER  AND  EARLY  SPRING. 

One  of  the  most  important  particulars  connected  with  bee 
management,  is  taking  care  that  they  are  abundantly  supplied 
with  food  in  autumn,  and  also  taking  care  at  that  season  to  ascer- 
tain whether  or  not  they  are  sufficiently  strong  in  numbers , and  if 
not,  to  unite  your  weak  stocks,  so  as  to  form  strong  ones.  It  is 
by  such  treatment  as  this  that  you  may  expect  to  preserve  your 
bees  in  health  and  strength  through  the  winter,  and  to  have 
them  in  a condition  to  attend  properly  to  their  brood  in  the  early 
spring. 

In  a large  straw  hive,  there  should  be  left,  at  your  autumnal 
honey  harvest,  from  twenty  to  twenty-five,  or  even,  according  to 
the  size  of  the  hive,  thirty  pounds  weight  of  honey,  exclusive, 
be  it  remembered,  of  the  weight  of  hive,  stand,  and  bees.  If 
you  should,  from  any  accident,  find  your  hive  deficient  in  weight, 
you  must  make  up  the  deficiency  by  artificial  feeding,  either  with 
honey  or  with  the  mixture  of  ale  and  sugar. 

Having  ascertained  that  you  have  supplied  your  stocks  with  a 
sufficiently  ample  quantity  of  food  for  their  support  during  win- 
ter, or  that  they  already  possess  enough,  you  should  next  narrow 
the  entrance  of  the  hive  so  that  it  will  scarcely  admit  of  the  pas- 
sage of  more  than  a single  bee  at  a time  ; and  towards  the  middle 
of  November  the  entrance  should  be  closed  nearly  altogether. 
The  hives  should  be  covered  up  with  matting,  fern,  or  other 
similar  substance,  in  order  to  preserve  them  from  rain,  frost,  or, 
the  most  dangerous  of  all,  the  sun’s  rays  of  a fine  winter’s  day. 
These  deceptive  rays  would  afford  a temptation  to  the  bees  to 
sally  forth,  and  the  result  would  be,  that  they  would  become 
chilled  by  the  cold.  Few  would  survive  the  flight  so  as  to  return 
to  the  hive  : its  temperature  would  fall,  and  you  would  lose  your 
stock.  Your  hives  should  remain  thus  carefully  covered  and 
closed  until  the  beginning  of  March. 

I must  here  mention  a mode  of  protecting  your  hives,  and 
rendering  them  in  point  of  warmth  in  winter,  coolness  in  summer, 
iraperviousness  to  wet,  inaccessibility  to  moths,  and  other  foes  at 
least,  unless  through  the  entrance,  and  also  in  durability,  equa. 
to  wooden  boxes,  viz.,  a coating  of  Roman  cement  on  the  exterior. 


62 


THE  niVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


When  there  is  snow  upon  the  ground,  the  entrances  of  your  hives 
should  be  entirely  closed,  and  a screen  or  shade  should  be  placed 
before  the  hive,  in  case  of  an  accidental  sunny  day  occurring,  in 
order  to  prevent  the  bees  from  encountering  even  a single  decep- 
tive ray. 

Another  danger  from  which  you  are  imperatively  called  upon 
to  protect  your  bees  during  winter  is  dampness.  It  is  to  this 
cause  that  the  loss  of  many  a stock  is  to  be  attributed — an  in- 
ternal dampness,  generated  within  the  hive  itself.  This  is  best 
remedied  by  careful  ventilation,  placing  a bell-glass,  well  covered 
with  flannel,  over  the  aperture  on  the  top  of  your  hive  or  box, 
removing  it  from  time  to  time,  and  carefully  wiping  away  from  its 
interior  the  damp  formed  by  condensed  vapor ; this  remedy  is  at 
once  simple  and  efficacious. 

It  will,  perhaps,  appear  to  some  of  my  readers  a singular  ex- 
periment, resorted  to  by  some  bee-keepers,  viz.,  burying  the  hives . 
When  this  is  to  be  attempted,  the  hive  should  be  buried  in  a 
cool,  dry,  shady  place,  among  leaves,  about  a foot  deep,  and  the 
interment  should  be  performed  during  the  first  or  second  week  of 
November. 

A friend  buried  a hive  of  bees,  in  the  first  week  of  November, 
about  a foot  deep,  amongst  dry  leaves,  &c.,  and  disinterred  it  in 
the  last  week  of  February,  when  it  was  just  2 lbs.  lighter  than  it 
was  in  November,  and  the  bees  in  a lively  and  healthy  state. 
Another  person  immured  a hive  of  bees  in  the  earth,  four  feet 
deep,  in  the  second  week  of  November,  and  at  the  end  of 
January  it  was  removed,  and  weighed  only  3 oz.  less  than  it  did 
before  it  was  buried. 

The  above  experiments  are  worthy  of  attention  ; a shed,  having 
a northern  aspect,  and  which  is  as  dry  as  possible,  would  be  a 
suitable  place  for  further  trials.  The  principal  points  by  which 
there  might  be  cause  for  fear  of  failure,  would,  as  in  other  cases, 
be  from  dampness,  disease  for  want  of  fresh  air,  and  attacks  from 
vermin,  &c.  To  prevent  the  former  I would  recommend  that  the 
hives  be  placed  on  a long  frame  of  wood,  covered  by  a web  of 
closely-worked  wire,  and  raised  a few  inches  from  the  ground, 
the  ends  of  which  shonld  communicate  with,  and  be  occasionally 
opened  to,  the  fresh  air.  A long  tube  should  also  be  placed 
from  the  hole  at  the  top  of  each  hive  to  the  open  air  of  the  shed, 
from  the  uppe^  end  of  which  any  dampness  might  be  condensed 
by  bell-glasses,  and  con’s ,vyed  away  as  already  directed. 


WINTER  MANAGEMENT1. 


68 


The  materials  with  which  the  hives  are  covered  and  surround- 
ed, should  consist  of  dry  leaves  pressed  closely  together,  or  dry 
and  powdered  charcoal  or  cinders,  and  may  be  several  feet  in 
thickness,  to  preserve  the  bees  in  a cool  and  torpid  state,  and  at 
a regular  temperature,  in  which  state  they  should  be  kept  as  dry , 
dark  and  quiet  as  circumstances  will  permit. 

It  is  the  opinion  of  many  experienced  apiarians,  that  a cold 
winter  is  not  injurious  to  bees,  provided  they  are  sufficiently  pre- 
pared for  withstanding  it,  in  the  manner  above  detailed;  and 
which,  I trust,  comprises  several  facts,  hints,  and  suggestions, 
which  are  not  generally  known,  and  may  be  of  service  to  bee- 
keepers of  the  present  day. 

It  is  considered  that  those  localities  which  are  suited  to  the 
cultivation  of  good  barley  and  Dutch  clover,  are  also  suited  to 
the  production  of  honey,  and  that  where  a rose  will  prosper,  a 
bee  will  prosper  also  ; consequently  there  are  but  few  situations 
in  which  the  keeping  of  bees  might  not  be  profitably  extended. 

In  all  plans  and  operations  with  bees,  the  laws  of  nature 
should  be  attentively  observed  and  assisted,  by  which  much  may 
be  experienced  and  acquired  from  attention  and  perseverance, 
and  the  results  aimed  at  obtained  at  less  trouble  and  expense 
than  if  an  opposite  course  were  pursued. 

As  the  spring  approaches,  the  winter  coverings  should  be 
gradually  removed,  and  those  hives  which  have  been  buried 
placed  in  their  summer,  situations.  Small  quantities  of  food 
should  then  be  supplied  as  occasion  requires,  until  winter  is  past. 

It  must  always  be  borne  in  mind  that  seasons,  situations,  and 
the  laws  of  nature,  present  influences  which,  may  be  guarded 
against,  or  assisted,  but  cannot  be  completely  controlled.  Thus, 
the  aspect  for  the  entrances  of  the  hives  may  require  to  be  varied 
a few  points  between  the  eastern  and  western  sides  of  the  king- 
dom ; and  there  may  also  require  to  be,  on  some  occasions,  an 
advance  or  delay  of  a few  weeks  in  some  operations  with  bees 
between  the  northern  and  the  southern  parts  of  any  country  of 
some  considerable  extent. 

Among  other  obvious  mistakes,  I may  mention  the  recommen- 
dation to  give  the  bees  an  opportunity  of  leaving  the  hive,  and 
going  abroad  every  fine  day,  already  detailed.  What  advantage 
is  expected  to  be  derived  from  thus  permitting  the  insects  to  go 
forth  ? They  may  be  supposed  to  want  exercise.  This  is  a mis- 
take ; for  the  bees  naturally  crowd  together,  and  remain  in  a 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


64 

sort  of  torpor  during  winter,  and  every  thing  that  could  tend  to 
interfere  with,  or  arouse  them  from  it,  must,  of  course,  prove 
contrary  to  their  natural  instincts,  and  consequently,  prejudicial. 
During  winter  the  bees  are  inactive. 

It  seems  generally  recommended  that  the  hives  should  be  re- 
moved to  a northern  aspect  during  winter.  If  the  bees  are  to  be 
set  at  liberty,  this  very  removal,  otherwise  so  necessary,  will 
cause  their  destruction  ; for  they  will,  on  being  permitted  to  issue 
from  the  hive,  of  a certainty  fly  back  to  their  old  quarters,  where 
they  will  remain  until  benumbed  by  the  cold  that,  despite  a few 
gleams  of  treacherous  sunshine,  pervades  the  air,  and  will,  of 
course,  soon  fall  to  the  grouud,  and  miserably  perish — all  owing 
to  your  bad  management. 

Independent  of  these  considerations,  I may  also,  and  I think 
most  reasonably,  adduce  the  very  considerable,  and  at  the  same 
time,  most  unnecessary  waste  of  food  consequent  on  the  adoption 
of  the  liberty  system. 

Bees  can  endure  the  extreme  cold  of  a Russian  winter  with 
impunity,  while  a far  inferior  degree  of  cold  often  proves  fatal ; 
the  true  cause  of  the  phenomenon  is  the  greater  dryness  of  the 
Russian  climate,  and  that  to  dampness  it  is  that  we  are  to  ascribe 
failure. 

An  old  French  wTork  suggests  a mode  of  preserving  bees  by 
interment  during  winter.  It  consists  of  laying  some  very  dry, 
powdered  earth  upon  the  bottom  of  an  old  cask,  to  the  depth  of 
about  half  a foot,  pressed  down  very  hard,  and  setting  on  this 
the  stool  with  the  hive  ; then  preserving  a communication  with 
the  air,  by  cutting  a hole  in  the  cask,  opposite  to  the  mouth  of 
the  hive,  and  placing  a piece  of  reed  from  the  mouth  of  the  hive 
to  the  hole  in  the  cask  ; then  covering  the  hive  up  writh  a quanti- 
ty of  dry  earth  similar  to  that  on  which  it  stands.  In  spring  it 
is  only  necessary  to  remove  the  winter  coverings  gradually  and 
with  caution  ; to  examine  also  the  state  of  the  bees’  provisions, 
and,  if  necessary,  feed  them.  Be  cautious  in  at  once  giving  them 
liberty,  or  in  doing  so  too  early,  or  in  unsettled  weather.  The 
mouth  of  the  hive  should  be  kept  facing  due  ivest,  until  all  these 
dangers  have  passed  away  : when  the  working  season  arrives, 
the  aspect  of  the  hive  must  be  moved  southward,  and  the  insects 
left  entirely  to  themselves.  When  spring-feeding  is  necessary,  it 
is  usually  in  April,  for  then  the  demands  of  the  young  brood  call 
for  a greater  consumption  of  honey  than  ordinary,  and  from 


THE  ENEMIES  AND  DISEASES  OF  BEES. 


65 


want  of  attending  to  this  circumstance,  hives  have  been  lost  even 
so  late  in  the  season  as  the  month  of  May. 

About  the  beginning  of  the  month  of  March,  is  the  proper 
time  for  transferring  stocks  from  hives  to  boxes ; the  latter  should 
be  previously  well  cleaned  out,  their  interior  smeared,  and  sup- 
plied with  a portion  of  honey,  in  a proper  feeder. 

As  the  warm  wreather  approaches,  shade  your  hives  from  the 
sun.  If  the  bees  be  induced  by  the  heat  to  attempt  injudicious  « 
or  ill-timed  swarming,  and  hang  in  clusters  about  the  entrance  of 
the  hive,  you  can  check  it  by  sprinkling  them  with  some  water 
from  the  nose  of  a watering  pot  or  syringe  ; they  will  mistake 
this  for  rain,  and  retire  within  the  hive  to  resume  their  work. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  DISEASES  AND  ENEMIES  OF  BEES. 

Bees,  when  properly  attended  to,  and  managed  on  the  im- 
proved modern  system,  are  neither  very  subject  to  disease,  nor 
very  liable  to  suffer  from  the  attacks  of  enemies  ; still,  however, 
accidents  of  these  kinds  will  occur,  once  in  a while,  despite  of 
our  most  anxious  care. 

The  diseases  of  bees  are  not  numerous,  so  that  a lengthened 
detail  will  be  unnecessary. 

DISEASES  of  bees. 

These  are  Diarrhoea  and  Dysentery.  The  latter  is  probably 
only  produced  by  neglect  of  the  former  : at  all  events,  we  may 
regard  these  two  affections  as  springing  from  the  one  cause,  and 
certainly  they  can  only  be  combated  by  the  same  remedies. 

Columella  speaks  of  diarrhoea  as  a purging  which  seizes  bees 
annually,  in  the  spring ; and  conceives  it  to  be  occasioned  by  the 
bees  surfeiting  themselves  on  the  young  flowers  in  their  first  re- 
past. He  recommends  a remedy,  still  earlier  proposed  by  Hygi- 
nus,  viz.,  covering  the  bees  with  the  warm  ashes  of  the  fig-tree. 
On  his  own  part,  Columella  recommends  giving  them  rosemary 
and  honey  diluted  with  water. 

In  my  opinion  this  looseness  is  occasioned  by  the  bees  feeding 
on  what  is  called  “ candied  honey” — a substance,  the  deleterious 
effects  of  which  were  well  known  to  Aristotle,  and  subsequently 


66 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


to  Virgil,  who  gives,  in  his  account  of  bees,  express  directions  for 
preventing  honey  from  candying.  He  regarded  the  cause  of  its 
doing  so  to  be  cold. 

I cannot  very  positively  account  for  the  formation  of  candied 
honey,  unless,  as  is  very  probable,  Wildman’s  opinion  be  correct, 
viz.,  that  it  becomes  so  by  being  too  long  in  the  hive,  too  stale , 
and  hence  unfit  for  use.  The  mode  of  prevention  is  obvious  : — 
A periodical  examination  of  the  hives  or  boxes,  and  a removal  of 
a portion  on  each  occasion  of  the  old  or  mouldy  combs.  The 
presence  of  candied  honey  in  a hive  is  so  obnoxious  to  bees,  that 
it  frequently  induces  them  to  desert  it. 

The  candied  honey  proves  fatal  to  bees  in  another  way  beside 
their  being  poisoned  by  it.  When  the  bees  find  candied  honey 
in  the  combs,  they,  knowing  its  prejudicial  qualities,  if  they  have 
other  and  wholesome  store,  throw  it  out  of  the  combs,  and  it  of 
course  falls  on  the  bottom  board  of  the  hive.  In  doing  this  the 
bees  prepare  their  own  graves.  They  can  neither  enter  nor  leave 
the  hive  without  bedaubing  themselves,  and  their  endeavors  to 
free  themselves  and  their  companions  from  the  incumbrance  only 
make  matters  worse.  When  bees  are  found  in  this  state,  it  is 
difficult  to  relieve  them ; but  if  anything  will  do  so,  it  is  immer- 
sion in  tepid  water  ; for  this  purpose  you  can  sweep  them  into  a 
tub  with  the  wing  of  a fowl,  leave  them  in  the  water  until  insen- 
sible, and  unite  them , when  they  revive  a little,  to  the  bees  of 
another  hive,  taking  care  to  serve  these  latter  similarly.  Though 
I recommend  this  treatment,  I can  by  no  means  pronounce  it  in- 
fallible ; but  I have  known  it  to  succeed  in  more  than  one  in- 
stance. 

In  an  old  French  treatise  we  find  purging  and  dysentery  at- 
tributed to  the  bees  feeding  on  too  pure  honey , which  is  there 
said  not  to  be  sufficiently  substantial  for  them  by  itself.  The  cure 
recommended  is  to  give  them  from  another  hive  combs  well  sup- 
plied with  bee-bread  or  crude  wax. 

ENEMIES  OF  BEES. 

These  are  far  more  numerous  than  their  diseases,  and  are  as 
follows  : — 

Poultry,  Mice,  Toads,  Frogs,  Snails,  Slugs,  Caterpillars,  Moths, 
Millipedes,  Woodlice,  Ants,  Lice,  Spiders,  Wasps,  Hornets. 

Fowls  should  not  be  permitted  in  any  apiary.  They  will  kill 
and  eat  the  bees,  and  such  as  they  do  not  destroy  they  will  an- 
noy and  disturb — besides,  your  bees  will  probably  occupy  a 


THE  ENEMIES  AND  DISEASES  OF  BEKS. 


67 


stand  in  your  garden,  a quarter  whence  other  reasons  should  ne- 
cessarily exclude  poultry. 

Mice. — While  the  bees  are  vigorous,  the  field-mouse  does  not 
dare  attack  the  hive  ; but  as  the  cold  approaches,  and  the  bees 
become  less  active,  he  enters,  and  commencing  with  the  lower 
comb,  ascends  by*degrees  as  the  bees  become  torpid,  until  he 
either  clears  all  away,  or  by  the  smell  of  the  honey  he  has  wast- 
ed on  the  board,  induces  other  bees  to  come  and  plunder.  As 
soon  as  the  warm  weather  returns,  the  surviving  bees  will  leave 
the  hive  in  disgust.  The  remedy  is  easy.  By  having  your  straw 
hives,  if  you  use  such,  coated  on  the  exterior  with  Roman  ce- 
ment, you  will  prevent  mice  from  nestling  in  the  straw,  whence 
otherwise  they  would  speedily  eat  their  way  into  the  interior,  and 
by  narrowing  the  entrance  of  the  hive  in  the  manner  already  de- 
scribed, you  will  effectually  keep  out  these  little  intruders.  If 
your  stands  be  placed  on  a single  foot,  or  if  the  feet  are  so 
placed  under  the  foot  board  as  to  leave  a wide,  projecting  ledge , 
no  mice  can  arrive  at  the  hive. 

To.ads  will  kill  bees  occasionally,  but  not  in  sufficient  numbers 
to  excite  our  alarm ; but  is  rather  to  be  regarded  as  a friend  to 
the  bees,  one  of  their  enemies,  the  spider,  being  his  favorite  food. 

Frogs  may  be  classed  with  Toads. 

Snails  and  Slugs. — These  creatures  are  not  absolutely  enemies 
of  bees,  as  they  have  no  design  upon  them  or  their  honey  in  en- 
tering the  hiye,  but  merely  do  so  from  accident.  The  mischief 
done  by  them  consists  in  the  alarm  and  confusion  they  occasion. 
The  bees  first  attack  the  unfortunate  intruder  and  kill  him  with 
their  stings,  after  which  they  carefully  encase  him  in  propolis, 
effectually  preventing  putrefaction  or  the  production  of  maggots. 

Caterpillars. — The  most  dreaded  is  the  caterpillar  of  the 
Wax-moth,  so  called  from  the  ravages  it  makes  amongst  the 
combs  as  soon  as  it  obtains  entrance.  By  having  the  legs  of  the 
stand  placed  as  I have  already  described,  no  caterpillar  can  climb 
up  to  the  hive ; but  this  will  not  prevent  the  Moth  herself  from 
entering  and  depositing  eggs  in  the  hive  ; and  so  prolific  are 
these  moths,  that  a single  brood  would  suffice  to  destroy  a 
wffiole  stock.  Periodical  fumigation,  and  cutting  away  such 
combs  as  contain  the  grubs,  is  the  remedy  to  be  adopted.  Moths 
are  only  nocturnal  enemies.  During  the  day  you  have  nothing 
to  fear  from  their  attacks.  Let  the  entrance  to  the  hive,  there* 


68 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


fore,  be  nearly  closed  in  the  evening,  and  you  will  protect  your 
bees  from  their  ravages.  Columella  recommends,  as  a trap  for 
moths,  a bottle,  or  other  vessel,  with  a long  and  narrow  neck  in- 
creasing gradually  to  a wide  mouth,  and  having  a light  in  the 
neck,  to  be  placed  under  the  hive  in  the  evening,  I can  vouch 
for  the  efficacy  of  this  trap — it  will  destroy  numbers.  Another 
particular  to  be  attended  to  is  to  have  your  stocks  sufficiently 
strong ; and  for  this  purpose,  if  the  hive  attacked  be  weak,  unite 
it  to  the  bees  of  another  hive,  in  the  manner  already  described. 
The  bees  are  themselves,  if  sufficiently  strong  in  numbers,  both 
willing  and  able  to  destroy  the  intruders.  If  weak,  they  will 
necessarily  fall  victims. 

Millipedes,  or  Woodlice,  are  often  produced  by  the  stand 
being  made  of  decayed  wood,  or  the  hive  being  placed  too  near 
an  old  hedge.  Let  the  stand  be  of  new  wood,  and  strew  soot  on 
the  ground  under  and  about  the  hive.  This  will  also  serve  in 
part  as  a protection  against  the  attacks  of 

Ants. — You  should  always  destroy  such  ants’  nests  as  you 
find  in  the  neighborhood  of  a hive.  In  the  West  Indies  glass 
feet  are  used  to  prevent  these  insects  from  getting  into  furniture, 
&c.  Might  not  such  be  used  with  advantage  for  bee- hives? 

Lice. — These  are  small  parasitical  insects  of  a red  color,  which 
adhere  to  the  body  of  the  bee,  and  derive  their  nourishment  from 
her  juices.  They  are  about  the  size  of  a grain  of  mustard  seed, 
or  rather  smaller. 

Reaumur  and  others  tried  many  remedies  for  these  trouble- 
some insects,  but  in  vain,  till  at  length  Madame  Yicat  discovered 
that  Morocco  tobacco  will  kill  the  lice  without  injuring  the  bees. 

Spiders. — Brush  away  their  webs  wherever  you  meet  with 
them  near  your  stand. 

Wasps  and  Hornets. — These  insects  are  most  noxious  to  bees. 
Dig  up  and  destroy  their  nests  wherever  you  meet  with  them ; 
but  you  will  most  effectually  get  rid  of  them  by  offering  a re- 
ward for  every  queen  wasp  brought  to  you  in  spring.  The  de- 
struction of  each  queen  is  tantamount  to  that  of  an  entire  nest ; 
and  if  this  plan  were  generally  adopted,  wasps  would  eventually 
be  extirpated. 

Birds. — Among  those  which  are  the  greatest  enemies  to  bees, 
I may  mention  sparrows  and  swallows.  Set  traps  near  the  hives, 
baited  with  dead  bees ; shoot  the  birds ; and  hang  up  a few  of 


TREATMENT  OF  YOUR  PRODUCE. 


69 


such  birds  as  you  kill,  on  trees  near  the  stands.  Perseverance 
for  a time  in  this  will  rid  you  of  the  annoyance. 

Bees. — Bees  are  amongst  the  most  dangerous  foes  of  their 
own  kind,  being  bold  and  resolute  plunderers.  It  is  only  weak 
stocks,  however,  that  suffer,  so  that  union  is  the  obvious  cure. 
Avoid  also  placing  your  hives  too  close  together ; and  also  avoid 
at  any  time  placing  a weak  stock  near  a strong  one. 

I have  now  enumerated  the  principal  foes  you  have  to  appre- 
hend, and  you  will  find  if  you  follow  my  directions,  they  will  not 
prove  so  very  formidable,  but  be  much  more  easily  got  rid  of,  or 
guarded  against,  than  you  imagined.  On  the  other  hand,  if  you 
neglect  proper  precautions,  and  suffer  the  enemy  to  remain  un- 
molested, you  will  be  equally  astonished  at  the  incredible  amount 
of  mischief  they  will  do,  and  the  rapidity  with  which  they  will 
do  it. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

HOW  TO  TREAT  THE  PRODUCE  OF  YOUR  HONEY  HARVEST. 

In  the  first  place,  you  must  remove  your  store  to  some  room 
without  a fire-place,  for  the  bees  have  been  known  to  make  use 
of  even  that  mode  of  access  in  order  to  come  at  the  honey,  which 
they  are  able  to  scent  from  a considerable  distance.  Close  all 
the  doors  and  windows.  You  should  previously  have  in  the 
room  whatever  implements  you  want — viz.,  some  large  glazed 
earthen  vessels,  clean,  new,  horse-hair  sieves,  a strainer , some 
clean  linen  cloths,  and  abundance  of  water  to  wash  your  hands. 
Wildman  recommends  burning  cowdung,  or  rotten  hay,  at  the 
doors  and  windows  of  the  room  in  which  you  are  at  work,  in 
order  to  keep  away  the  bees,  and  experience  has  shown  that  this 
recommendation  should  be  attended  to. 

Your  first  care  should  be  to  examine  the  combs,  and  free  them 
from  all  dirt,  grubs,  young  bees,  or  other  foreign  matters — re- 
membering, of  course,  to  have  previously  well  and  thoroughly 
washed  your  hands.  You  then  cut  the  combs  horizontally  into 
pieces  of  an  inch  wide,  and  lay  them  on  the  sieve  over  the  glazed 
earthen  vessels  ; when  they  have  dropped  all  the  honey  that  they 
will  yield  without  squeezing,  put  them  in  the  cloth  already  men- 
tioned, and  wring  it  over  another  crock;  this  will  furnish  the 


70 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


second  class  honey — that  spontaneously  yielded  is  called  virgin 
honey,  and  is  equal  in  purity  to  that  obtained  from  the  bell  glass. 

Some  have  recommended  heating  the  combs  in  order  to  pro- 
cure an  inferior,  a third , description  of  honey;  but  this  is  bad. 
When  you  have  obtained  all  that  you  can  squeeze  through  the 
cloth  or  bag,  carefully  cover  up  the  two  sorts,  put  the  combs, 
also  well  covered,  into  a vessel  by  themselves,  and  remove  all  the 
other  cloths,  vessels,  and  other  utensils,  to  the  apiary , that  the 
bees  may  lick  them  clean. 

Your  next  object  is  to  obtain  the  wax ; for  this  purpose,  put 
the  combs  into  a clean  vessel,  and  add  as  much  soft  water  as 
they  will  float  in — distilled  water  would  be  best — but  rain  will 
answer  nearly  as  well.  Place  the  vessel  on  a clear  and  not  too 
hot  fire,  and  watch  it,  stirring  occasionally  until  the  combs  be 
completely  liquefied.  You  then  strain  this  through  a fine  canvas 
bag,  into  a tub  of  cold  water.  The  water  first  flows  through, 
and  then  the  bag  requires  pressure  to  make  it  yield  the  wax. 
The  simplest  press  is  that  recommended  in  Mr.  Nutt’s  book  : — 
“ Have  ready  then  a piece  of  smooth  board  of  such  a length  that, 
when  one  end  of  it  is  placed  in  the  tub  of  cold  water,  the  other 
end  may  be  conveniently  rested  against,  and  securely  stayed,  by 
your  breast.  Upon  this  inclined  plane  lay  your  dripping,  reek- 
ing strainer,  and  keep  it  from  slipping  into  the  cold  water  by 
bringing  its  upper  part  over  the  top  of  the  board,  so  as  to  be 
held  firmly  between  it  and  your  breast.  If  the  strainer  be  made 
with  a broad  hem  round  its  top,  a piece  of  strong  tape  or  cord 
passed  through  such  hem  will  draw  it  close,  and  should  be  long 
enough  to  form  a stirrup  for  the  foot,  by  which  an  additional 
power  will  be  gained  of  keeping  the  scalding  hot  strainer  in  its 
proper  place  on  the  board  ; then,  by  compressing  the  bag,  or 
rather  its  contents,  with  any  convenient  roller,  the  wax  will  ooze 
through  and  run  down  the  board  into  the  cold  water,  on  the  sur- 
face of  which  it  will  set  in  thin  flakes.  When  this  part  of  the 
operation  is  finished,  collect  the  wax,  put  it  into  a clean  sauce- 
pan, in  which  is  a little  water,  to  keep  the  wax  from  being  burned 
to  the  bottom ; melt  it  carefully,  for  should  it  be  neglected,  and 
suffered  to  boil  over,  serious  mischief  might  ensue,  liquid  wax  being 
of  a very  inflammable  nature ; therefore,  melt  it  carefully  over  a 
slow  fire,  and  skim  off  the  dross  as  it  rises  to  the  top  ; then  poui 
it  into  such  moulds  or  shapes  as  your  fancy  may  direct,  having 
first  well  rinsed  them,  in  order  that  you  may  be  aWe  to  get  the 


TREATMENT  OF  YOUR  PRODUCE. 


71 


wax,  when-  cold  and  solid,  out  of  them,  without  breaking  effhei 
tin;  moulds  or  the  wax  ; place  them,  covered  over  with  cloths 
or  with  pieces  of  board,  where  the  wax  will  cool  slowly  ; because 
the  more  slowly  it  cools , the  more  solid  will  it  be,  and  free  from 
flaws  and  cracks.” 

You  may  bleach  your  wax  by  re-melting  it,  and  running  it 
several  times  into  very  thin  cakes,  suffered  to  cool,  and  exposed 
to  the  influence  of  the  air  and  sun.  This  will  render  the  wax 
perfectly  white. 

You  will  find  the  separation  of  the  honey  from  the  wax,  and 
the  sale  of  these  substances  separately,  much  more  profitable 
than  the  sale  of  the  honey  in  the  comb.  The  larger  the  cakes  of 
wax  are,  and  the  better,  the  higher  price  it  brings.  The  same 
may  be  said  as  to  the  purity  of  the  honey.  Honey  may  be 
clarified  by  placing  the  vessel  containing  it  in  hot  water,  and 
continuing  to  skim  as  long  as  any  scum  arises.  In  order  to  pre- 
serve honey,  it  should  be  stored  in  jars,  well  bladder ed,  and 
otherwise  secured.  It  should  also  be  kept  in  a dry  place. 

Mead. — Some  persons  may  feel  desirous  of  making  for  them- 
selves this  once  famous  drink,  and  I shall  accordingly  furnish 
them  with  simple  directions  for  so  doing.  Common  mead  is 
formed  by  mixing  two  parts  of  water  with  one  of  honey,  boiling 
them  together,  and  taking  off  the  scum. 

Fermented  mead  is  formed  of  three  parts  of  water  to  one  of 
honey,  boiled  as  before,  skimmed,  and  casked.  The  cask  is  to 
be  left  unbunged  and  exposed  to  the  sun,  or  in  a warm  room, 
until  it  ceases  to  work.  It  is  then  bunged,  and  in  about  three 
months  is  fit  for  use.  The  addition,  of  a ferment  is  of  course  ne- 
cessary, taking  care  that  it  be  sound,  sweet,  and  good. 

Hops  are  an  improvement  to  mead,  taking  from  its  extreme 
sweetness ; and  so  is  the  addition  of  chopped  raisins  boiled  with 
it,  at  the  rate  of  six  pounds  of  honey  to  each  half  pound  of 
raisins  ; also  some  lemon  peel ; a few  glasses  of  brandy,  &e. 

Metheglin  is  only  another  name  for  mead,  altered  by  the  ad- 
dition of  various  ingredients,  according  to  the  taste  of  its  pre- 
parers. These  liquors  may  be  racked,  fined,  &c.,  like  other  wines, 
and  will,  if  properly  managed,  keep  for  years. 

It  now  only  remains  for  me  to  conclude  my  account  of  the  hive 
and  the  honey-bee  with  a few  parting  directions,  forming  a sort 
of  summary  of  the  instructions  I have  already  endeavored  to 
convey  : — 


72 


THE  HIVE  AND  THE  HONEY-BEE. 


I.  — Never  suffocate  your  bees. 

II.  — Do  not  take  too  much  honey  from  them  at  the  honey 
harvest. 

III.  — Keep  them  in  such  receptacles  as  will  admit  of  extend- 
ing their  accommodation  when  desirable,  and  thus  preventing  the 
necessity  of  unwished-for  swarming. 

IV.  — Unite  weak  hives  in  autumn,  and  leave  the  bees  a suf- 
ffciency  of  food  for  the  winter,  so  shall  they  be  strong  in  store 
and  in  numbers  in  the  spring. 

V.  — During  winter  keep  them  confined,  cool,  dry,  and  quiet  ; 
and  in  spring  again  examine  and  feed  liberally  such  stocks  as  re- 
quire it ; and 

VI.  — If  you,  by  attending  to  the  advice  I have  endeavored, 
through  the  medium  of  this  little  volume,  to  convey  to  you,  suc- 
ceed in  the  culture,  and  discover  how  profitable  as  well  as  how 
interesting  a pursuit  it  is,  when  judiciously  conducted,  communi- 
cate your  experience  to  your  neighbors.  Abjure  selfishness,  and 
so  may  you  prosper ; and  in  after  years  you  will,  perhaps,  con- 
gratulate yourself  on  having  bestowed  your  attention  on  the 
Hive  and  the  Honey-bee. 


THE  END. 


THE 


PESTS  OF  THE  FARM; 


BEING  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  VARIOUS 

DEPREDATING  ANIMALS,  BIRDS,  AND  INSECTS 


WHICH 


ANNOY  THE  AMERICAN  FARMER. 


WITH 

DIRECTIONS  FOR  THEIR  DESTRUCTION. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  ON  WOOD. 


NEW  YORK: 

C.  M . SAXTON  AND  COMPANY, 
AGRICULTURAL  BOOK  PUBLISHERS, 

No.  140  Ettt.ton  Street. 

1856. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1852,  by 
r.  M SjLXTON, 

in  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


EDITOR’S  PREFACE. 


The  title  and  purpose  of  this  little  book,  were  suggested  by  the 
English  one  of  Richardson.  Beside  the  name,  this  has  little  connec- 
tion with  that,  as  it  is  wholly  American,  some  trifling  portion  only 
having  been  taken  from  it.  The  pests  of  the  American  farm  being 
nearly  all  American,  it  was  necessary  to  draw  its  matter  from  Amer- 
ican sources.  The  Editor  is  indebted  mainly  to  Godman  and  Audu- 
bon for  the  portion  relating  to  Quadrupeds;  to  Wilson,  Bonaparte, 
Ord  and  Audubon  for  that  relating  to  Birds ; and  to  Harris  and  Miss 
Morris  for  that  relating  to  Insects. 

The  matter  contained  in  this  little  book  is  nowhere  else  accessible 
in  one  volume,  nor  in  popular  shape.  To  obtain  the  information 
here  given,  many  expensive  ones,  without  this,  must  have  been  con- 
sulted ; and  while  these  circumstances  should  commend  it  to  every 
farmer,  the  subject  matter  should  command  his  attention  and  secure 
his  interest.  A.  S. 


PUBLISHER'S  ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  Publisher,  having  found  the  want  of  small,  cheap  Books,  of 
acknowledged  merit,  on  the  great  topics  of  farming  economy,  and 
meeting  for  those  of  such  a class  a constant  demand,  offers,  in  his 
Rural  Handbooks,  of  which  this  is  one,  works  calculated  to  fill  the 
void. 

He  trusts  that  a discerning  Public  will  both  buy  and  read  these 
little  Treatises,  so  admirably  adapted  to  all  classes,  and  fitted  by 
their  size  for  the  pocket,  and  thus  readable  at  the  fireside,  on  the 
road,  and  in  short  everywhere. 

C.  M.  SAXTON, 

Agricultural  Book  Publisher . 


CONTENTS 


SECTION  I. 

QUADRUPEDS. 

The  Wild  Cat,  page  8 — Northern  or  Canadian  Lynx,  9 — The  Skunk,  10-^« 
The  Weasel,  13 — The  Otter,  17 — The  American  Porcupine,  18 — The 
Mole,  19 — The  European  Rabbit,  23 — The  Hare  or  American  Rab- 
bit, 25 — The  Fox,  27 — Wolves,  30;  the  Common  Wolf,  30;  the 
Prairie  or  Barking  Wolf,  32 ; the  American  Black  Wolf,  33 — The 
Woodchuck  or  Marmot,  35 — The  Raccoon,  37 — The  Black  Bear, 
40 — Squirrels,  45;  the  Cat  Squirrel,  45;  the  Black  Squirrel,  45;  the 
common  Grey  Squirrel,  45;  the  common  Red  Squirrel,  46;  the 
Ground  Squirrel  or  Chipmunk,  47 — Rats,  48 — Mice,  56 — Ferrets,  59. 

SECTION  II. 

PREDACIOUS  BIRDS. 

Predacious  Birds,  p.  60 — The  Eagle,  60 — The  Bald  Eagle  or  White  Headed 
Eagle,  61 — The  Sea  or  Gray  Eagle,  64 — The  Crow,  65 — The  Raven, 
69 — Hawks,  70 ; American  Sparrow  Hawk,  70 ; the  Red  Tailed 
Hawk,  72 — Owls,  72;  the  Barred  Owl,  72;  the  Little  Owl,  74  ; the 
Red  Owl,  75;  the  Great  Horned  Owl,  75. 


SECTION  III. 

INSECTS. 

Insects,  p.  76 — Wire  Worm,  77— Iules,  80 — May  Bugs,  81 — Rose  Bugs, 
82 — Pea  Bug,  84 — The  Apple  Worm,  85 — The  Apple  tree  Borer, 
88 — The  Turnip  Fly  or  Beetle,  89 — Potato  Fly,  90- -Grasshoppers 


6 


CONTENTS. 


and  Locusts,  91 — Locusts,  92 — Plant  Lice,  94 — Park  Lice,  96 — Peach 
tree  Borer,  97 — Caterpillars,  98 ; Yellow  Bear  Caterpillar,  98;  the 
Salt  Marsh  Caterpillar,  99 ; Apple  tree  Caterpillar,  101 ; Lackey 
Cateipillar,  103 — Locust  tree  Borers,  106 — Apple,  Cherry  and  Plum 
tree  Caterpillars,  108;  Corn  Caterpillar,  111;  CutWorms,  112 — The 
Plum  Weevil  or  Curculio,  115— Canker  Worms,  118 — The  Hop 
Caterpillar,  123 — The  Bee  Moth,  124 — The  Grain  Moth,  127 — The 
Hessian  Fly,  130. 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


Any  scientific  mode  of  arrangement,  in  the  treatment  of  such  a 
very  diversified  subject  as  the  present,  would  only  prove  a source 
of  unnecessary  toil  and  mystification  to  the  practical  reader.  The 
principal  living  pests  from  whose  annoyances  farmers,  or  those 
holding  land , whether  as  farmers  or  mere  country  gentlemen,  are 
likely  to  suffer,  are  easily  divisible  into  three  great  sections — viz., 
quadrupeds,  birds,  and  insects.  I adopt  the  latter  term  in  its  old 
and  widest  sense — viz.,  as  applying  not  merely  to  insecta,  but  to 
worms,  slugs,  and  other  land  molluscs  infesting  plants  and  fruits. 
Under  the  first  head,  of  Quadrupeds , will  be  the  Wild  Cat,  the 
Skunk,  the  Weasel,  the  Otter,  the  Hedgehog  or  Porcupine,  the 
Mole,  the  Rabbit,  the  Hare,  the  Rat,  the  Mouse,  the  Fox,  the 
Opossum,  the  Mink,  the  Muskrat,  the  Wolf,  and  the  Raccoon. 
Under  the  second  head  will  be  Predacious  Birds,  such  as  the  Eagle, 
the  Raven,  the  Owl,  the  Kite,  the  Hawk,  &c.,  whose  predatory  habits 
tend  usually  towards  the  same  quarter,  and  which  may  to  a great 
extent  be  destroyed,  or  their  ravages  guarded  against,  in  the  same 
manner  and  by  the  same  means.  Under  the  third,  will  be  Insects , 
properly  so  called , as  Beetles , Weevils , Wasps , Flies,  the  Wire  worm, 
the  Turnip-fly,  the  Beetle,  the  various  Caterpillars,  and  other 
ravenous  larvae  ; nor  shall  I omit  some  account  of  the  aphis  vastator , 
to  whose  devastation  many  persons  attribute  the  loss  of  the  potato ; 
and,  observe,  I shall  not  confine  my  observations  to  such  creatures 
as  I know  to  be  pests,  but  shall  further  describe  such  as  are  only 
suspected , and  also  those  which  are  calumniated , which  I know  not 
to  be  pests,  many  of  which,  indeed,  are  on  the  contrary  serviceable , 
and  to  be  regarded  as  friends  rather  than  as  foes,  to  be  preserved 
rather  than  extirpated. 


8 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


SECTION  I. 

QUADRUPEDS. 

The  Wild  Cat. — In  form,  the  Wild  Cat  closely  resembles  its 
domesticated  namesake  ; it  is,  however,  more  compactly  built,  is  of 
larger  size,  and  its  tail  is  not  only  shorter,  but  blunter  at  the  point. 
From  the  latter  circumstance  has  arisen  the  not  yet  obsolete  fable 
of  wild,  demon-like  cats,  being  found,  with  hooks  or  spikes  at  the 
extremity  of  the  tail ; for,  in  the  common  Wild  Cat,  the  extremity 
of  the  tail  is  usually  destitute  of  hair,  and  is  not  unfrequently  fur- 
nished with  a hard  and  nail-like  process,  proceeding  from  a sort  of 
unaccountable  exposure  of  the  last  joint  of  the  tail.  The  domestic 
cat  will  also  occasionally  become  wild.  This  is  not,  as  might  be 
supposed,  the  descendant  of  the  Wild  Cat,  but  is  of  Egyptian  ori- 
gin. It  will,  however,  breed  with  the  Wild  Cat,  and  I have  ascer- 
tained that  the  progeny  are  fertile.  The  young  are  also  fertile 
among  themselves ; and,  hence,  according  to  the  admitted  theory 
of  zoologists,  they  are  of  the  one  species. 

When  the  domestic  cat  becomes  wild,  it  is,  by  many  degrees,  a 
more  troublesome  and  more  crafty  enemy  than  the  naturally  wild 
animal.  Whether  naturally  wild,  or  only  having  been  rendered 
so  by  circumstances,  however,  both  animals  present  the  same  char- 
acteristics of  disposition,  habit,  and  place  of  abode.  Their  prey  is 
the  same,  their  habitudes  are  the  same,  and,  consequently,  the 
same  mode  of  destruction  will  be  found  to  apply  to  both.  The 
principal  specific  difference  between  the  wild  and  the  common  Cat 
is  the  length  of  the  intestines — those  of  the  Wild  Cat  being  con- 
siderably shorter. 

The  Wild  Cat  exceeds  the  common  cat  in  size,  standing  usually 
upwards  of  eighteen  inches  in  height.  The  body  is  shorter  in  pro- 
portion ; the  lips  are  always  black,  and  the  prevailing  color  of  the 
fur  a rusty  or  reddish  grey.  This  fur  will  be  found  to  make  a 
warm  and  comfortable  lining  for  winter  shoes. 

Now,  as  to  the  destruction  of  the  cat,  either  traps  or  poison  will 
effect  it  with  facility.  A steel  spring-trap  is  best,  and  I prefer  the 
square  to  the  round  form.  Chain  it  firmly  to  some  fixed  object ; 
bait  with  a dead  fowl  or  piece  of  meat,  smeared  or  rubbed  with 
valerian.  The  cat  is  so  very  fond  of  the  odor  of  this  substance, 
hence  familiarly  termed  “ cat-mint,”  that  it  will  go  anywhere  for 


QUADRUPEDS. 


9 


the  purpose  of  rolling  upon  it.  The  annexed  cut  represents  the 
best  form  of  trap  for  this  purpose.  You  should  proceed  with  cau- 


tion to  release  the  captive  felon.  Should  any  blood  be  spilled 
upon  the  trap,  wash  it  off,  and  change  the  bait  every  night. 

Northern  or  Canadian  Lynx. — The  northern  lynx  is  a fierce 
and  subtle  creature,  exhibiting  most  of  the  traits  of  character  which 
distinguish  animals  of  the  cat  kind.  To  the  smaller  quadrupeds, 
such  as  rabbits,  hares,  lemings,  &c.,  it  is  exceedingly  destructive, 
never  leaving  the  vicinities  they  frequent  until  their  numbers  are 
altogether  destroyed,  or  exceedingly  thinned.  But  the  ravages  of 
the  northern  lynx  are  not  confined  to  such  small  game  ; it  drops 
from  the  branches  of  trees  on  the  necks  of  deer,  and  clinging 
firmly  with  its  sharp  hooked  claws,  ceases  not  to  tear  at  the  throat 
and  drink  the  blood  of  the  animal  until  it  sinks  exhausted  and  ex- 
pires. It  attacks  sheep  and  calves  in  the  same  manner,  and  preys 
upon  wild  turkeys  and  other  birds,  which  it  is  capable  of  surpris- 
ing, even  on  the  tops  of  the  highest  trees. 

The  northern  lynx  is  fearful  of  man,  offers  very  little  resistance 
when  attacked,  and  is  easily  killed  by  a smart  blow  over  the  back. 
This  animal  is  not  often  found  to  approach  closely  to  settlements, 
though  occasionally  it  does,  when  it  is  destructive  to  sheep  and 
calves,  but  frequents  the  plains  and  woods  where  the  animals  on 
which  it  subsists  are  obtained  in  the  greatest  abundance. 

The  northern  lynx  has  a large  body  and  strong  legs,  and  mea- 
sures about  three  feet  from  the  tip  of  its  nose  to  the  end  of  its 
tail,  which  is  about  six  or  seven  inches  long,  and  black  for  half  its 
length  towards  the  extremity.  The  head  is  thick  and  round,  and 
the  ears  sharp  and  tipped  with  a tuft  of  black  hair.  There  are 
four  or  five  small  undulating  bands  on  the  cheeks,  and  the  labial 
whiskers  are  white.  The  animal  is  about  sixteen  inches  high. 

The  general  color  of  the  northern  lynx  is  deep  reddish,  marked 
on  the  flanks  with  small  oblong  spots  of  a reddish  brown,  with 
small  round  spots  of  the  same  color  on  the  limbs.  The  ears 
are  black  externally,  but  covered  by  an  angular  space  of  shining 


10 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


ash  color ; lie  eyes  are  surrounded  by  a whitish  circle  to  a 
black  longitudinal  mark  above  them,  running  from  each  side  to- 
ward the  front.  The  back  is  never  marked  by  a black  band  along 
its  middle. 

In  8umn  3r  dress  the  pelage  is  short,  the  hair  being  brow  a at 


THE  LYNX. 


the  base  and  of  a bright  red  at  the  point.  In  winter  the  hairs  are 
longer  and  all  their  points  are  whitish ; the  silky  hairs,  which  are 
most  numerous  and  long  in  winter,  render  the  color  of  the  animal 
ash  or  whitish,  which  in  summer  gives  place  to  the  more  decided 
red,  marked  with  brown  spots.  The  lynx  is  to  be  shot  or  caught 
by  traps,  like  the  wild  cat. 

The  Skunk. — Pedestrians,  called  by  business  or  pleasure  to 
ramble  through  the  country  during  the  morning  or  evening  twi- 
light, occasionally  see  a small  and  pretty  animal  a short  distance 
before  them  in  the  path,  scampering  forward  without  appearing 
much  alarmed,  and  advancing  in  a zig-zag  or  somewhat  serpentine 
direction.  Experienced  persons  generally  delay  long  enough  to 
allow  this  unwelcome  fellow-traveler  to  withdraw  from  the  path  : 
but  it  often  happens  that  a view  of  the  animal  arouses  the  ardor 


QUADRUPEDS. 


11 


of  tlie  observer,  who  in  his  fondness  for  sport  thinks  not  of  any 
result  but  that  of  securing  a prize.  It  would  be  more  prudent  to 
rest  content  with  pelting  this  quadruped  from  a safe  distance,  or  to 
drive  it  away  by  shouting  loudly  ; but  almost  all  inexperienced 
persons,  the  first  time  such  an  opportunity  occurs,  rush  forward 
with  intent  to  run  the  animal  down.  This  appears  to  be  an  easy 
task  ; in  a few  moments  it  is  almost  overtaken ; a few  more  strides, 
and  the  victim  may  be  grasped  by  its  long  and  waving  tail — but 
that  tail  is  now  suddenly  curled  over  the  back,  its  pace  is  slacken- 
ed, and  in  one  instant  the  condition  of  things  is  entirely  reversed  ; 
— the  lately  triumphant  pursuer  is  eagerly  flying  from  his  intended 
prize,  involved  in  an  atmosphere  of  stench,  gasping  for  breath,  or 
blinded  and  smarting  with  pain,  if  his  approach  were  sufficiently 
close  to  allow  of  his  being  struck  in  the  eyes  by  the  pestilent  fluid 
of  the  skunk.  Should  the  attack  on  this  creature  be  led  by  a dog, 
and  he  be  close  at  hand  when  the  disgusting  discharge  is  made,  he 
runs  with  tail  between  his  legs  howling  away,  and  by  thrusting  his 
nose  into  the  soil  as  he  retreats,  tries  to  escape  from  the  horrible 
effluvium  which  renders  the  air  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the 
skunk  too  stifling  to  be  endured.  Thus  is  an  animal,  possessed  of 
very  trifling  strength  and  no  peculiar  sagacity,  protected  by  the 
hand  of  nature  against  the  most  powerful  and  destructive  enemies. 
A few  glands  secrete  a most  noisome  and  intolerably  stinking  fluid, 
and  this  scattered  with  peculiar  force  upon  the  body  of  his  ene- 
mies, or  even  in  the  air,  is  sufficient  to  disarm  the  violence 
of  most  quadrupeds,  and  induce  man  himself  rather  to  avoid  than 
to  seek  an  encounter. 

The  organs  by  which  this  fluid  is  formed,  are  placed  near  the 
termination  of  the  digestive  tube,  and  the  ducts  from  the  glands 
open  into  the  rectum,  by  the  aid  of  whose  muscles  the  fluid  is 
ejected  with  astonishing  force,  and  is  aimed  with  great  accuracy, 
rarely  missing  the  object,  if  discharged  while  within  the  proper 
distance.  The  faculty  this  animal  possesses  of  annoying  its  ene- 
mies by  the  discharge  of  the  fluid  just  mentioned,  causes  it  rather 
to  be  shunned  than  hunted,  which  the  value  of  its  skin  would 
otherwise  be  sure  to  occasion. 

The  skunk  inhabits  the  whole  of  North  America,  and  is  also 
found  throughout  a considerable  part  of  the  southern  portion  of 
the  continent.  As  the  colored  markings  vaiy  exceedingly  in  dif- 
ferent individuals,  it  is  not  surprising  that  naturalists  have  made 
several  species  of  this  animal,  though  without  any  foundation  in 


12 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


nature.  All  the  species  proposed  by  systematic  writers  are  re- 
ducible to  one,  the  subject  of  this  article,  Mephitis  Americana , or 
American  skunk. 

The  fetor  produced  by  the  skunk  is  especially  characterized  by 
all  who  have  experienced  it  as  suffocating  or  stifling,  which  is 
owing  to  its  peculiar  concentration.  The  predominant  odor  is  that 
of  muskiness,  but  in  so  condensed  and  aggravated  a form  as  to 
render  it  almost  insupportable,  even  at  a considerable  distance  from 
the  spot  where  it  is  first  discharged.  A very  good  idea  may  be 
formed  of  this  stench  by  breaking  and  smelling  a leaf  or  stalk  of 
the  plant  called  skunk  cabbage  (the  Dracontium  fetidum,  or  pa- 
thos fetidum ),  resembling  it  in  every  respect  except  in  strength, 
which  perhaps  no  artificial  accumulation  of  this  vile  scent  could 
ever  equal. 

The  fluid  ejected  by  the  skunk  is  not  merely  offensive  by  its 
stench,  but  also  in  consequence  of  its  highly  stimulating  and  acri- 
monious qualities.  When  any  of  it  is  thrown  into  the  eyes,  it  is 
productive  of  very  violent  and  dangerous  inflammation ; we  must 
suppose  that  this  peculiar  acrimony,  rather  than  any  mere  offen- 
siveness of  odor,  is  the  cause  of  the  marked  repugnance  evinced 
by  dogs,  as  these  animals  show  not  the  slightest  sign  of  uneasi- 
ness from  the  presence  of  the  most  nauseous  and  putrid  effluvia 
from  animal  or  vegetable  substances,  yet  run  howling  and  trying 
to  thrust  their  noses  into  the  ground  after  having  been  exposed  to 
this  pungent  perfume  from  the  skunk. 

In  its  extreme  volatility  it  bears  a considerable  resemblance  to 
true  musk.  The  smallest  drop  is  sufficient  to  render  a garment 
detestable  to  the  wearer  and  his  companions  for  a great  duration 
of  time,  and  without  any  perceptible  diminution  of  intensity. 
Washing,  smoking,  baking  and  burying  articles  of  dress,  and  in 
fact  every  effort  short  of  destroying  the  materials  of  which  they 
are  made,  seem  to  be  equally  inefficient  for  its  removal.  This 
scent  is  not  only  thus  enduring  when  the  fluid  is  sprinkled  upon 
clothing,  but  the  spot  where  the  animal  is  killed,  or  where  the 
matter  was  ejected,  retains  it  for  a great  length  of  time. 

If  the  skunk  be  killed  while  unsuspicious  of  the  approach  of 
danger,  or  before  time  has  been  allowed  for  the  discharge  of 
his  artillery  of  perfume,  the  animal  is  not  in  any  way  disagreeable, 
and  may  be  approached  closely  or  even  eaten  without  the  least 
unpleasantness,  if  the  glands  be  carefully  taken  out.  Its  flesh, 
when  the  oaorous  parts  have  been  carefully  removed,  is  said  to  be 


QUADRUPEDS. 


13 


well  flavored,  an  .1  resembles  that  of  a pig  considerably.  It  is 
eaten  by  the  Indians,  and  occasionally  by  hunters,  with  much 
relish. 

The  skunk  is  most  generally  found  in  the  forests  or  their  im- 
mediate vicinity,  having  its  den  either  in  the  hollow  of  an  old 
tree  or  stump,  or  an  excavation  in  the  ground.  It  feeds  upon 
the  young  and  eggs  of  birds,  and  on  small  quadrupeds,  wild 
fruits,  &c.  Occasionally  the  skunk  gains  access  to  the  poultry- 
yard,  where  it  does  much  mischief  by  breaking  and  sucking  the 
eggs,  or  by  killing  the  fowls.  When  resident  in  the  vicinity  of 
farm-houses,  it  remains  for  a long  time  without  giving  notice  of 
its  presenoe  by  emitting  its  offensive  fluid,  which  proves  how  ri- 
diculous is  the  notion  that  the  urine  of  this  animal  is  the  source 
of  its  disgusting  fetor ; for  were  this  the  fact,  the  whole  country 
it  inhabits  would  be  rendered  almost  insupportable  to.  every 
other  creature. 

We  have  already  stated  that  the  color  of  the  hair  is  various 
in  different  individuals  of  this  species  at  different  seasons  and 
periods  of  life.  Very  commonly  it  is  of  a blackish  brown  over 
the  whole  of  the  body,  except  on  the  top  of  the  head,  or  imme- 
diately between  the  ears  where  there  is  a white  spot,  and  the  tip 
of  the  tail,  also,  is  white.  Some  individuals  have  a slight  white 
mark  on  the  breast.  The  hairs  of  the  tail  are  long  and  bushy, 
and,  with  the  exception  of  their  tips,  are  of  a dark  brown  color. 
But,  as  heretofore  stated,  scarcely  two  of  them  are  colored  pre- 
cisely in  the  same  way.  The  length  of  a full-grown  skunk  is  about 
eighteen  inches,  and  the  tail  about  seven,  the  long  hair  at  the  ex- 
tremity making  nearly  one-half  of  this  length. 

The  best  way  of  destroying  the  skunk  is  the  trap.  The  same 
form  of  trap  recommended  for  the  wild  cat  will  answer,  but  it  should 
be  of  smaller  size.  Box-traps  have  been  recommended  ; but  I have 
little  confidence  in  them,  and  prefer  the  steel.  A few  leaves  or 
grass  should  be  cast  over  the  trap,  in  order  to  disguise  its  character. 
The  skunk  is  not  a very  sagacious  animal,  however,  and  his  want 
of  cunning  renders  his  capture,  by  the  preceding  method,  very  easy. 
If  a box-trap  be  used  at  all,  let  it  be  a long  one,  open  at  both  ends ; 
cast  bushes  over  it ; bait  and  trail  the  bait  for  some  distance  along 
the  path  at  both  extremities  of  the  trap. 

The  Weasel. — Among  the  small  quadrupeds  inhabiting  Ame- 
rica, few  are  to  be  found  equaling  the  weasel  or  ermine  in 


14 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


beauty — perhaps  none  that  excel  it  in  the  qualities  of  courage,  grace- 
ful celerity  of  movement,  and  untiring  activity.  Its  whole  aspect  in- 
spires the  beholder  with  an  idea  of  its  character  which  is  well  sup- 
ported by  its  actions.  The  long  and  slender  body,  bright  and  pier- 
cing eyes,  keen  teeth  and  sharp  claws,  clearly  show  that,  however  di- 
minutive the  animal  may  appear,  it  is  destined  by  nature  to  destroy 
other  creatures  more  numerous  and  less  powerful  than  those  of  its 
own  race  ; this  length  and  slenderness  of  body  are  accompanied  by  a 
peculiar  degree  of  flexibility,  and  by  a strength  of  limb,  which,  in 
so  small  an  animal,  may  be  fairly  esteemed  surprising.  There  is 
scarcely  an  opening  through  which  its  prey  can  enter,  where  the 
weasel  cannot  follow,  and  having  once  gained  access,  its  instinctive 
destructiveness  is  only  allayed  when  no  other  victim  remains  to 
be  slaughtered. 

In  the  northern  parts  of  this  continent,  and  the  northern  por- 
tions of  Asia,  the  ermine  is  found  in  the  greatest  abundance  ; yet 
it  is  by  no  means  limited  to  northern  regions,  since  it  is  found 
throughout  a vast  expanse  of  country,  reaching  from  the  highest 
northern  latitudes  to  the  middle  states  of  the  Union.  In  the  mid- 
dle and  eastern  states  it  is  most  generally  known  as  the  weasel ; 
farther  north  it  is  called  stoat  in  its  summer,  and  ermine  in  its  win- 
ter pelage  of  pure  white. 

The  habits  of  the  ermine  weasel  are  very  analogous  to  those  of 
the  common  weasel  of  Europe,  and  as  its  general  configuration  is 
so  nearly  similar,  it  is  not  surprising  that  this  animal  should  have 
been  confounded  with  the  European  species.  This  weasel  fre- 
quents the  barns  and  out-houses  of  plantations,  and  its  retreat  is 
generally  well  secured  beneath  the  floors  or  rafters,  amid  accumu- 
lations of  timber  or  stone,  or  in  similar  situations.  Mice  and 
various  other  depredators  on  the  granary  are  the  special  objects  of 
its  pursuit,  and  the  rapid  multiplication  of  many  of  these  devour- 
ers  of  grain  could  scarcely  be  sufficiently  restrained,  were  it  not 
that  the  weasel  is  capable  of  tracing  them  throughout  their  laby- 
rinths, and  possesses  the  disposition  to  destroy  all  that  come 
within  its  reach.  If  the  efforts  of  this  weasel  were  confined  to  the 
destruction  of  these  little  depredators,  we  might  consider  it  as  the 
best  friend  to  the  husbandman ; but  occasionally  a contribution  is 
levied  on  the  hen-roost,  and  the  morning’s  light  exhibits  an  uni- 
versal slaughter  of  the  poultry,  whose  throats  are  cut,  or  heads 
eaten  off.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to  prevent  such  occurrences  when 
these  animals  are  resident  in  the  vicinity,  as  they  can  gain  access 


QUADRUPEDS. 


15 


where  few  other  creatures  can  enter ; then  their  swiftness  of  mo- 
tion and  keen  bite  soon  render  the  escape  of  their  victims  impos- 
sible. 

Still  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  there  are  many  situations  in 
which  the  services  of  this  little  animal  may  bo  esteemed  a positive 
good  ; for  such  is  the  fecundity  of  many  of  the  depredators  on  the 
grain,  that  nothing  short  of  the  destruction  of  the  whole  crop 
would  ensue,  were  it  not  that  the  weasel  is  continually  thinning 
their  ranks  and  killing  greater  numbers  than  are  required  for  its 
mere  subsistence. 

The  disposition  which  makes  this  weasel  so  useful  under  ordi- 
nary circumstances,  forbids  an  attempt  to  increase  its  usefulness  by 
domestication,  for  the  purpose  of  freeing  our  houses  from  mice,  &c. 
Notwithstanding  it  might  be  so  far  tamed  as  to  take  up  its  resi- 
dence about  our  dwellings,  it  would  be  exceedingly  dangerous  to 
expose  the  lives  of  the  inmates  to  the  blood-thirstiness  of  this 
quadruped,  which  is  rendered  doubly  dangerous  from  the  circum- 
stance of  seeking  its  prey  during  the  hours  devoted  by  man  to 
sleep. 

The  weasel  is  found  in  greater  abundance  on  barren  grounds  or 
open  plains  than  in  the  woods,  which  in  all  probability  is  owing  to 
the  greater  number  of  mice  that  frequent  the  former  situations. 

While  pursuing  their  prey,  weasels  are  said  to  resemble  little 
hounds  running  upon  a trail;  their  tails  are  carried  horizon- 
tally, while  with  eager  haste  and  most  agile  movements  they  fol- 
low their  prey  by  the  scent.  Except  when  in  their  summer  dress, 
it  is  very  difficult  to  distinguish  their  actions,  as  in  winter  their 
pure  white  pelage  is  so  nearly  the  color  of  the  snow,  as  to  render 
it  almost  impossible  to  see  them.  When  the  weasel  is  hunted  and 
closely  pursued,  like  other  species  of  this  genus,  it  has  the  faculty 
of  ejecting  from  a peculiar  glandular  apparatus,  a fluid  of  a pow- 
erful musky  odor ; this,  though  it  may  serve  to  retard  the  pursuit 
of  some  of  its  enemies,  is  too  harmless  a resource  to  save  the 
weasel  from  the  hands  of  man. 

There  is  but  little  probability  of  taming  the  weasel  unless  it  be 
captured  very  young,  and  even  then  the  period  of  its  mildness 
would  pass  away  with  its  early  youth.  When  caught  in  a trap 
and  subsequently  kept  in  a cage,  it  exhibits  every  sign  of  the  most 
unappeasable  disposition  to  kill  or  injure  every  being  it  is  able  to 
master.  Various  attempts  have  been  made  to  domesticate  the 
weasel,  but  all  without  success,  and  frequently  the  restlessness  and 


16 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


impatience  cl  the  animal  has  appeared  to  increase  with  the  dura- 
tion of  its  imprisonment. 

We  have  mentioned  that  in  the  eastern  and  middle  part  of  the 
United  States  die  ermine  weasel  frequents  out-houses,  stone-heaps, 
piles  of  timber,  <fcc.,  and  though  capable  of  following  its  prey  into 
small  holes,  does  not  burrow  in  the  earth. 

The  ermine  weasel,  in  its  summer  dress,  is  of  a light  ferrugi- 
nous or  chestnut-brown  color  over  the  whole  of  the  head  ; this 
color  extends  in  a rounded  spot  below  the  angle  of  the  jaw  ; the 
whole  back,  sides,  and  half  of  the  tail  next  the  body  being  of  the 
same  color.  The  other  portion  of  the  tail  is  blackish,  becoming 
gradually  darker  as  it  approaches  the  extremity,  where  it  is  quite 
black,  and  the  hairs  terminate  in  a point  resembling  that  of  a 
camel’s  hair  pencil.  The  external  and  anterior  half  of  the  fore-legs 
are  of  the  same  color  as  the  upper  part  of  the  body,  and  there  are 
three  small  spots  of  white  over  the  base  of  the  toes  of  the  right 
foot,  and  one  on  the  left,  over  the  first  or  shortest  digit. 

The  under  part  of  the  animal  is  nearly  of  a pure  white,  begin- 
ning at  the  extremity  of  the  under  jaw  and  spreading  broadly  as 
it  passes  over  the  throat,  where  it  forms  a point  on  each  side,  al- 
most reaching  to  the  base  of  the  ear.  The  white  then  narrows 
slightly  in  descending  the  neck,  spreads  broadly  upon  the  breast, 
and  then  suddenly  growing  narrower,  passes  down  the  inner  and 
posterior  part  of  the  fore  legs.  Thence  it  passes  along  the  belly, 
where  it  is  again  narrowed,  and  then  spreading  out  widely  at  the 
groin,  it  terminates  at  the  upper  and  anterior  part  of  the  thigh, 
becoming  visible  for  a short  distance  on  its  outside. 

The  fur  in  summer  is  short,  soft  and  silky  to  the  touch,  not 
varying  perceptibly  in  length  except  on  the  snout,  where  it  is  quite 
short,  and  covering  the  digits  of  the  fore  and  hind  feet,  where  it  is 
rather  longer  than  on  the  other  parts,  and  conceals  the  nails  en- 
tirely. On  the  tail  the  hairs  are  longer  and  coarser  than  on  the 
rest  of  the  body,  though  still  soft. 

The  ermine  weasel,  in  its  winter  pelage  dress,  is  of  a pure  white 
over  the  whole  head,  body,  and  limbs ; half  of  the  tail  to  its  ex- 
tremity only  retaining  its  black  color.  This  white  color  is  so  pure 
in  the  northern  regions  as  to  render  it  almost  impossible  to  dis- 
tinguish these  animals  upon  the  snow,  when  the  ends  of  their  tails 
are  not  in  sight.  The  whiteness  is  not  always  thus  pure,  but  the 
fur  is  slightly  tinted  with  pale  yellow  on  the  tip. 


QUADRUPEDS. 


17 


The  ear  of  U e ermine  weasel  is  broad  at  its  base,  and  the  ori- 
fice leading  tc  the  internal  ear  large ; the  ears  are  not  covered 
with  fur  on  their  posterior  surface,  but  by  a very  short  down.  On 
the  superior  and  anterior  part  of  the  external  ear,  there  is  somo 
hair  of  considerable  length  growing  from  that  part  of  the  ear 
which  would  correspond  with  the  helix  and  anti-helix  of  the  human 
ear,  and  almost  covering  the  concha.  The  eyes  of  this  animal  are 
small  and  black,  yet  prominent,  clear,  and  lustrous. 

The  fur  of  the  ermine  becomes  longer,  thicker,  and  finer  in  win- 
ter than  in  summer  ; this  effect  seems  to  be  a general  consequence 
of  rigorous  seasons  on  all  animals,  without  reference  to  the  perma- 
nence or  mutability  of  their  coloring. 

To  take  these  pests,  use  such  square  steel  traps  as  are  already 
described,  but  smaller ; bait  with  small  birds,  their  tails  dipped  in 
musk  and  aniseed  ; the  weasel  displaying  as  strong  a predilection 
for  this  substance  as  the  cat  does  for  valerian. 

The  Common  Otter  varies  in  size — some  adult  specimens  mea- 
suring no  more  than  thirty-six  inches  in  length,  tail  inclusive ; 
while  others,  again,  are  to  be  found  from  four  and  a half  to  five 
feet  long.  The  head  of  the  otter  is  broad  and  flat ; its  muzzle  is 
broad,  rounded,  and  blunt ; its  eyes  small  and  of  a semicircular 
form  *,  the  body  is  long,  rounded,  and  very  flexible  ; legs  short  and 
muscular ; feet  furnished  with  five  sharp  clawed  toes,  webbed  to 
three-quarters  of  their  extent ; tail  long,  muscular,  somewhat  flat- 
tened, and  tapering  to  its  extremity.  The  color  of  the  otter  is  a 
deep  blackish  brown  ; the  sides  of  the  head,  the  front  of  the  neck, 
and  sometimes  the  breast,  brownish  grey  or  dusky  white.  The 
belly  is  usually,  but  not  invariably,  darker  than  the  back  ; the  fur 
is  short,  and  of  two  kinds  ; the  inferior  or  woolly  coat  is  exceed- 
ingly fine  and  close  ; the  longer  hairs  are  soft  and  glossy,  those  on 
the  tail  rather  stiff  and  bristly.  On  either  side  of  the  nose,  and 
just  below  the  chin,  are  two  small  light-colored  spots.  So  much 
for  the  appearance  of  the  otter ; we  now  come  to  its  dwelling. 

The  native  haunt  of  the  otter  is  the  river  bank,  where,  amongst, 
the  reeds  and  sedge,  it  forms  a deep  burrow,  in  which  it  brings 
forth  and  rears  its  young.  Its  principal  food  is  fish,  which  it 
catches  with  singular  dexterity.  It  lives  almost  wholly  in  the 
water,  and  seldom  leaves  it  except  to  devour  its  prey  ; on  land  it 
does  not  usually  remain  long  at  any  one  time,  and  the  slightest 
alarm  is  sufficient  to  cause  it  to  plunge  into  the  stream.  Yet,  na- 
tural as  seems  a watery  residence  to  this  creature,  its  burrow  is  per- 


18 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


fectly  dry  ; were  it  t ' become  otherwise,  it  would  be  quickly  aban- 
doned. The  entrance,  indeed,  is  invariably  under  water,  but  its 
course  then  points  upwards  into  the  bank,  towards  the  surface  of 
the  earth,  and  it  is  even  provided  with  several  lodges  or  apart- 
ments at  different  heights,  into  which  it  may  retire  in  case  of 
floods,  throwing  up  the  earth  behind  it  as  it  proceeds  into  the  re- 
cesses of  its  retreat ; and  when  it  has  reached  the  last  and  most 
secure  chamber,  it  opens  a small  hole  in  the  roof  for  the  admission 
of  atmospheric  air,  without  which  the  animal  could  not  of  course 
exist  many  minutes  ; and  should  the  flood  rise  so  high  as  to  burst 
into  this  last  place  of  refuge,  the  animal  will  open  a passage  through 
the  roof,  and  venture  forth  upon  land,  rather  than  remain  in  a 
damp  and  muddy  bed.  During  severe  floods,  otters  are  not  un- 
frequently  surprised  at  some  distance  from  the  water,  and  taken. 

In  a wild  state,  the  otter  is  fierce  and  daring — will  make  a de- 
termined resistance  when  attacked  by  dogs — and  being  endued 
with  no  inconsiderable  strength  of  jaw,  it  often  punishes  its  assail- 
ants terribly.  I have  myself  seen  it  break  the  fore-leg  of  a stout 
terrier. 

The  otter  is  easily  rendered  tame,  especially  if  taken  young,  and 
may  be  taught  to  follow  its  master  like  a dog,  and  even  to  fish  for 
him,  cheerfully  resigning  its  prey  when  taken,  and  dashing  into 
the  water  in  search  of  more. 

The  common  otter  is  only  to  be  regarded  as  a pest  when  fish- 
ponds or  rivers  are  concerned.  His  habits  are  interesting,  and  of  a 
gentle  and  inoffensive  description,  and  his  race  is  not  so  numerous 
as  to  require  or  deserve  extirpation. 

The  American  Porcupine. — The  American  Porcupine  exhibits 
none  of  the  long  and  large  quills  which  are  so  conspicuous  and  formi- 
dable in  the  European  species,  and  the  short  spines  or  prickles 
which  are  thickly  set  over  all  the  superior  parts  of  its  body  are 
covered  by  a long  coarse  hair,  which  almost  entirely  conceals  them. 
These  spines  are  not  more  than  two  inches  and  a half  in  length, 
yet  form  a very  efficient  protection  to  our  animal  against  every 
other  enemy  but  man.  Too  slow  in  its  movements  to  escape  by 
flight,  on  the  approach  of  danger  the  porcupine  places  his  head 
between  his  legs,  and  folds  his  body  into  a globular  mass,  erecting 
his  pointed  and  barbed  spines.  The  cunning  caution  of  the  fox, 
the  furious  violence  of  the  wolf,  and  the  persevering  attacks  of  the 
domestic  dog,  are  alike  fruitless.  At  every  attempt  to  bite  the 
porcupine,  the  nose  and  mouth  of  the  aggressor  are  severely  wound- 


QUADRUPEDS. 


19 


ed,  and  the  pain  increased  by  every  renewed  effort,  as  the  quills  of 
the  porcupine  are  left  sticking  in  the  wounds,  and  the  death  of  the 
assailant  is  frequently  the  consequence  of  the  violent  irritation  and 
inflammation  thus  produced. 

In  the  remote  and  unsettled  parts  of  Pennsylvania  the  porcupine 
is  still  occasionally  found,  but  south  of  this  state  it  is  almost  un- 
known. According  to  Catesby  it  never  was  found  in  that  direc- 
tion beyond  Virginia,  where  it  was  quite  rare.  In  the  Hudson’s 
Bay  country,  Canada,  and  New  England,  as  well  as  in  some  parts 
of  the  western  states,  throughout  the  country  lying  between  the 
Rocky  Mountains  and  the  great  western  rivers,  they  are  found  in 
great  abundance,  and  are  highly  prized  by  the  aboriginals,  both  for 
the  sake  of  their  flesh  and  their  quills,  which  are  extensively  em- 
ployed as  ornaments  to  their  dresses,  pipes,  weapons,  <fcc. 

The  porcupine  passes  a great  part  of  its  time  in  sleep,  and  ap- 
pears to  be  a solitary  and  sluggish  animal,  very  seldom  leaving  its 
haunts,  except  in  search  of  food,  and  then  going  but  to  a 
short  distance.  The  bark  and  buds  of  trees,  such  as  tlie  willow, 
pine,  ash,  <fcc.,  constitute  its  food  during  the  winter  season ; in 
summer,  various  wild  fruits  are  also  eaten  by  it. 

The  porcupine  is  only  a pest,  as  he  may  occasion  the  death  of  a 
valuable  dog.  The  method  of  destroying  him  is  by  the  gun  and 
by  traps. 

The  Mole. — The  mole  is,  by  most  agriculturists,  ranked  among 
the  most  troublesome  pests  of  their  farm  ; while  others  again  deny 
that  it  deserves  this  bad  character,  and  are  even  disposed  to  ex- 
patiate on  its  utility.  It  is  certain  that  the  mole  is  of  carnivorous, 
nay,  I should  perhaps  say,  of  insectivorous  habits — its  food  con- 
sisting chiefly  of  worms,  slugs,  snails,  beetles,  cockchafers,  grubs, 
and  other  such  creatures.  In  destroying  these  there  can  be  no 
doubt  but  that  the  mole  does  good  service  to  the  farmer,  and  de- 
serves so  far  to  be  looked  on  with  some  degree  of  favor.  On  the 
other  hand,  however,  it  is  no  less  true  that  in  forming  its  burrow, 
the  mole  throws  up  a heap  of  earth,  known  as  a molehill,  which  is 
apt  to  interfere  with  the  progress  of  the  mowers.  Sc  me  say  that 
the  holes  also  are  serviceable  to  the  soil,  by  throwing  up  the  sub- 
soil, and  thus  renewing  the  surface,  but  it  must  be  it  the  same 
time  admitted  that  this  burrowing  loosens  and  often  disinters  the 
roots  of  grain.  Whether,  therefore,  this  animal  is  to  be  regarded 
as  a pest  or  not,  depends  on  the  opinion  of  the  individual  farmer 
on  whose  lands  he  may  make  his  appearance. 


20 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


There  are  two  kinds  of  moles  that  are  pests — viz.,  the  shrew- 
mole  and  the  star-nose  mole. 

The  shrew-mole  is  found  abundantly  in  North  America,  from 
Canada  to  Virginia ; often  living  at  no  great  distance  from  water- 
courses, or  in  dykes  thrown  up  to  protect  meadows  from  inunda- 
tion. But  30  far  from  exclusively  inhabiting  such  places,  as  stated 
in  various  books,  I have  found  them  in  far  greater  numbers  at  a 
very  considerable  distance  from  any  water-course,  and  in  high 
oftener  than  low  grounds.  In  the  country  they  frequent  the  gar- 
dens, where  their  subterranean  galleries  are  sometimes  productive 
of  vexation  to  the  farmer,  especially  as  the  animal  occasionally 
courses  along  the  rows  of  pea-vines,  &c.,  apparently  for  the  purpose 
of  feeding  on  their  roots.  This,  we  shall  hereafter  learn,  is  most 
probably  an  error,  and  we  may  find  good  reasons  for  believing  that 
the  shrew-mole  should  be  considered  rather  as  a benefactor  than  a 
depredator. 

The  shrew-mole  burrows  with  great  quickness,  and  travels  under 
ground  with  much  celerity  : nothing  can  be  better  constructed  for 
this  purpose  than  its  broad  and  strong  hands,  or  fore-paws,  armed 
with  long  and  powerful  claws,  which  are  very  sharp  at  their  ex- 
tremities, and  slightly  curved  on  the  inside.  These  are  thrust  for- 
ward so  as  to  be  even  with  the  extremity  of  the  flexible  snout,  and 
the  earth  to  be  removed  is  pressed  outwards,  and  at  the  same  time 
thrown  backwards  with  remarkable  quickness.  The  soft  and 
polished  fur  with  which  this  animal  is  covered,  preventing  a great 
degree  of  friction,  tends  to  facilitate  its  subterranean  march. 

Numerous  galleries,  communicating  with  each  other,  enable  the 
shrew-mole  to  travel  in  various  directions,  without  coming  to  the  sur- 
face, which  they  appear  to  do  very  rarely,  unless  their  progress  is  im- 
peded by  a piece  of  ground  so  hard  as  to  defy  their  strength  and 
perseverance.  The  depth  of  then*  burrows  depends  very  materially 
on  the  character  of  the  soil,  and  the  situation  of  the  place  : sometimes 
we  find  them  running  for  a great  distance,  at  a depth  of  from  one  to 
three  inches,  and  again  we  trace  them  much  deeper;  after  follow- 
ing such  a gallery  for  several  yards,  it  occasionally  communicates 
with  another  going  deep  into  the  earth. 

The  most  remarkable  circumstance  connected  with  these  bur- 
rows is  the  number  of  hills  of  loose  dirt  which  are  frequently 
formed  over  the  surface  of  them.  These  hills  of  loose  earth  are 
usually  found  in  considerable  numbers,  at  a distance  of  two  feet  or 
a little  more  apart,  being  from  four  to  six  inches  high,  and  about 


QUADRUPEDS. 


21 


the  same  in  diameter.  I have  often  examined  these  eminences, 
and  have  never  been  able  fully  to  understand  how  they  are  form- 
ed ; a slight  motion  is  observed  at  the  surface,  and  presently  this 
loose  earth  is  seen  to  be  worked  up  through  a small  orifice, 
whence,  falling  on  all  sides,  by  its  accumulation  the  hills  just  men- 
tioned are  produced.  It  seems  to  be  brought  from  some  distance, 
for  on  breaking  up  the  gallery,  it  is  evident  that  more  earth  had 
been  thrown  out  than  could  have  been  removed  in  excavating  the 
immediately  adjoining  portions  of  the  burrow.  In  one  instance  I 
have  seen  the  shrew-mole  show  the  extremity  of  its  snout  from  the 
centre  of  one  of  these  loose  hills,  where  it  had  come  at  mid-day,  as 
if  for  the  purpose  of  enjoying  the  sunshine,  without  exposing  its 
body  to  the  full  influence  of  the  external  air. 

Under  ordinary  circumstances  the  burrows  are  simply  oval- 
arched  galleries,  running  forward  either  straight  or  in  gentle 
curvatures,  at  the  depth  heretofore  mentioned,  and  they  are  most 
regular  in  soils  abounding  in  earth-worms.  In  the  dry  and  sandy 
soil  I have  found  them  very  irregular  in  direction  and  depth,  and  in 
the  woods,  uniformly  leading  round  the  roots  of  trees,  under  which 
large  excavations  are  frequently  to  be  traced.  We  can  readily  un- 
derstand the  object  of  these  excavations  when  we  recollect  that  the 
ants  very  often  have  their  nests  in  such  situations,  and  their  larvae 
or  eggs  constitute  a favorite  food  of  the  shrew-mole.  The  burrows 
made  by  this  animal  are  sometimes  found  to  terminate  under  large 
stones,  where  it  resorts  to  gather  the  insects,  which  are  numerous 
in  such  situations.  I have  traced  a burrow  of  this  sort  close  to  a 
bam  wall,  and  then  following  it  nearly  around  the  whole  house, 
have  found  that  it  passed  under  every  large  stone  in  its  vicinity, 
although  not  directly  in  the  general  course  of  the  gallery,  the 
cavity  being  much  larger  beneath  the  stones  than  elsewhere. 

The  favorite  food  of  the  shrew-mole  is  the  earth-worm ; grubs 
and  insects  of  various  kinds  he  destroys  in  great  quantities,  and  it 
may  fairly  be  questioned  whether  the  good  done  in  this  way  does 
not  more  than  overbalance  any  evil  attendant  on  its  presence.  It  is 
true  that  this  animal  is  accused  of  eating  grass  roots,  and  roots  of 
succulent  vegetables,  and  may  thus  be  productive  of  some  mis- 
chief in  gardens,  but  scarcely  to  so  great  a degree  as  to  constitute 
a serious  evil.  The  presence  of  the  shrew-mole  in  fields  of  Indian 
corn  appeal’s  to  be  decidedly  advantageous  from  the  destruction  of 
great  numbers  of  slugs  and  worms ; but  in  dry  seasons  these  ani- 
mals, if  numerous,  may  injure  small  grain  or  grasses  to  a consider* 


22 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


able  ext3nt,  not  only  by  the  wounds  they  inflict  on  the  root  with 
their  sharp  claws,  but  by  raising  the  sod  while  forming  their  bur- 
rows, so  as  to  withdraw  the  roots  from  the  influence  of  the  moist 
soil  below. 

The  Star-Nose  Mole  frequents  the  banks  of  rivulets,  and  the 
soft  soil  of  adjacent  meadows,  where  their  burrows  are  most  nu- 
merous, and  apparently  interminable  ; in  many  places  it  is  scarcely 
possible  to  advance  a step  without  breaking  down  their  galleries, 
by  which  the  surface  is  thrown  into  ridges,  and  the  surface  of  the 
green  sward  in  no  slight  degree  disfigured.  The  excavations  which 
are  most  continuous,  and  appear  to  be  most  frequented,  are  placed 
at  a short  distance  below  the  grass  roots,  on  the  banks  of  small 
streams ; these  are  to  be  traced  along  their  margins,  following 
every  inflexion,  and  making  frequent  circuits  in  order  to  pass  large 
stones  or  roots  of  trees,  to  regain  their  usual  proximity  to  the  sur- 
face nearest  the  water. 

The  form  of  the  burrow  does  not  perceptibly  differ  from  that 
made  by  the  shrew-mole ; but  very  few  hills  are  to  be  found  in 
the  localities  inhabited  by  the  star-nose.  The  chamber-cell  resem- 
bles that  described  in  the  last  chapter,  being  a space  of  several 
inches  dug  out  of  some  spot  where  the  clay  is  tenacious,  and  the 
cell  least  exposed  to  injury  from  the  weather  or  other  accidents. 

The  system  of  dentition  peculiar  to  this  genus,  would  lead  to 
the  inference  that  the  quality  of  its  food  must  in  some  respects 
differ  from  that  used  by  the  shrew-mole ; but  on  this  point  it  is 
not  easy  to  say  more,  than  that  as  the  star-nose  prefers  moist  and 
low  situations,  and  the  shrew-mole  is  most  frequently  found  in  dry, 
and  rather  elevated  spots,  they  feed  on  the  larvae  and  insects  pro- 
per to  such  places,  which  are  doubtless  of  dissimilar  kinds.  In  a 
state  of  captivity  both  animals  feed  readily  on  flesh,  either  raw  or 
cooked,  and  neither  seem  to  show  any  fondness  for,  nor  willingness 
to  eat,  vegetable  matter. 

My  duty  consists  merely  in  pointing  out  the  most  efficacious 
method  of  destroying  the  animal : those  farmers  who  think  he 
should  be  rather  protected  than  warred  against,  are  not  obliged  to 
use  the  means  I merely  place  within  their  reach. 

Few  dogs  will  kill  or  even  mouth  the  mole,  and  if  a dead  one 
be  presented  to  a dog,  he  will  usually  curl  up  his  lips,  and  turn 
from  it  in  apparent  disgust.  I have  heard  this  asserted  of  cats 
also,  but  am  not  positive  of  the  correctness  of  the  idea,  never  hav- 
ing myself  made  the  experiment.  Traps  and  poison  are  the  means 


QUADRUPEDS. 


23 


best  calculated  to  effect  their  extirpation.  The  ordinary  mole-trap 
is  to  be  obtained  from  any  of  the  agricultural  implement-makers, 
or  any  of  the  farm  *eed-shops.  The  principle  of  its  construction 
.epends  on  a spring  formed  of  some  elastic  sort  of  twig,  stuck  in 
the  ground,  and  lent  until  its  other  extremity  is  attached  to  the 
trap.  The  trap  is  placed  in  the  mole’s  run,  and  is  baited  with 
earth-worms  or  a bit  of  raw  meat.  On  the  mole  entering  the  trap 
and  setting  the  spring  at  liberty,* it  is  suddenly  caught  up,  a noose 
drawn  tight  by  the  reaction  of  the  twig,  and  the  mole  suspended 
by  the  neck. 

I recently  met  with  what  I conceive  to  be  a far  more  efficacious, 
and  less  troublesome  mode  of  destroying  moles. 

Take  a quantity  of  fresh  worms,  put  them  in  a wooden  box, 
with  a small  quantity  of  carbonate  of  barytes  in  powder,  and  let 
them  remain  for  an  hour  or  two  ; then  find  out  the  runs  where  the 
moles  leave  the  fences  for  the  land,  lay  in  every  run  five  or  six 
worms,  and  continue  doing  so  as  long  as  the  worms  are  taken 
away  by  the  moles.  I was  infested  with  moles  before  I used  this 
remedy,  which  was  about  fifteen  years  since,  but  have  never  been 
injured  since,  by  giving  a little  attention  to  them  in  the  spring. 

The  European  Rabbit  has  been  introduced  into  America,  and 
will  soon  be  spread  widely. 

The  rabbit  is  unquestionably,  when  left  to  its  own  unrestrained 
devices,  a very  serious  pest,  but  an  animal  which  may,  neverthe- 
less, with  proper  management,  be  rendered  a very  considerable 
source  of  emolument,  while  the  annoyance  they  have  occasioned 
will  be,  at  the  same  time,  abated. 

If  you  would  have  rabbits  and  only  profit,  never  suffer  by  them  ; 
keep  them  in  enclosures,  and  provide  them  with  well-sheltered  huts. 
The  hutches  should  stand  on  dry  ground,  and  be  well  ventilated. 
If  sloping,  so  much  the  better,  as  this  allows  the  wet  to  run,  and  let 
there  be  tanks  placed  in  front  to  receive  it.  It  is,  when  mixed 
with  straw,  valuable  as  manure. 

Be  careful  while  you  have  your  rabbit-house  well  ventilated, 
that  it  at  the  same  time  afford  them  sufficient  shelter,  and  be  care- 
fully preserved  from  damp.  Do  not  give  green  food  in  a wet 
6tate ; it  is  apt  to  produce  the  rot.  If,  however,  a proportionate 
quantity  of  oats  or  other  hard  food  be  given,  you  need  have  no 
fear  on  this  head.  Keep  them  clean.  Let  the  breeding-boxes 
have  two  apartments — one  . for  day,  and  the  other,  furnished  with 
a bed,  for  night.  Do  not  give  more  food  than  will  be  consumed 


24 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


at  one  time,  and  keep  the  bucks  apart.  The  doe  will  breed  at  tire 
or  six  months  old,  and  she  carries  her  young  thirty  days.  But  the 
buck  should  not  be  again  admitted  to  her  until  about  four  days 
after  kindling,  and  he  should  be  kept  from  her  during  her  preg- 
nancy, or  he  will  cause  her  to  cast  her  young.  The  young  may 
be  weaned  at  the  age  of  from  four  to  five  weeks.  The  number  of 
young  produced  at  each  litter  is  from  ten  to  thirteen.  If  the  doe 
be  weak  after  parturition,  she  may  be  given  beer  caudle,  which  she 
will  drink  greedily,  or  warm  grains,  or  tepid  milk  and  water 
Oats  may  be  given  daily. 


THE  RABBIT. 

N ow  as  to  the  Rabbit  in  the  character  of  a nuisance : you  can 
never  be  fully  on  your  guard  against  his  visits,  and  one  is  destroyed 
only  to  make  room  for  another.  Nooses  placed  in  the  paths  he  is 
known  to  frequent  are  recommended  by  some. 

The  Rabbit  commits  but  little  mischief  amongst  the  green  crops 
if  comparison  with  its  ravages  amongst  young  trees,  and  growing 
piants ; and  they  may  be  prevented  from  injuring  these  by  a very 
simple  process.  Mix  common  coal  tar  vjth  equal  portions  of  cow- 
dung  and  lime,  and  with  a brush  smear  the  stems  to  the  height  of 


QUADRUPEDS. 


25 


about  thirty  inches  from  the  ground.  The  leftetition  of  this  treat- 
ment annually  will  effectually  preserve  the  trees  from  their  attacks, 
while  the  numbers  of  the  rabbits  must,  of  course,  be  kept  within 
proper  bounds  by  shooting  or  ferreting.  There  are  also  different 
descriptions  of  net  used  for  taking  rabbits,  some  account  of  which 
may  prove  useful.  The  fold-nets  are  so  laid  as  to  form  an  enclo- 
sure between  the  burrows  and  the  usual  place  of  feeding ; into 
these  the  rabbits  are  driven  by  dogs  at  night.  The  entrance  is 
then  closed,  and  in  the  morning  the  rabbits  are  secured. 

The  spring-net  is  so  constructed,  as  to  close  on  pressure  ; it  is 
laid  round  a grain  or  hay-stack,  and  numbers  will  be  thus  taken. 
The  best  mode  of  taking  rabbits  is  by  means  of  the  trap.  For  this 
purpose  dig  a pit  in  the  run  most  commonly  frequented,  and  have 
it  considerably  wider  at  the  bottom  than  at  the  top ; across  this  lay 
a board,  so  nicely  balanced  upon  a central  pin,  that  the  weight  of 
the  rabbit  is  sufficient  to  weigh  it  down  at  the  extremity,  while,  at 
the  same  time,  that  weight  removed,  the  board  will  resume  its 
former  position.  Numbers  will  be  taken  by  this  method.  It  may 
be  useful  to  remark  that  a rabbit  is  very  tenacious  of  life,  and  that 
it  will  frequently,  if  shot  in  the  rear,  succeed  in  making  its  escape ; 
in  shooting  them,  aim,  therefore,  always  for  the  head  ; if  there  be 
an  earth  near,  and  it  be  only  struck  behind,  it  will  be  sure  to  escape 
into  it,  and  perish  and  rot  uselessly  in  its  burrow. 

The  Hare. — This  is  the  true  name,  but  the  animal  is  frequently 
in  America  called  the  rabbit. 

In  various  parts  of  the  Union  the  American  hare  is  exceed- 
ingly common,  and  large  numbers  are  annually  destroyed  for 
the  sake  of  their  flesh  and  fur. 

The  timidity  and  defencelessness  characteristic  of  the  genus,  are 
well  illustrated  in  this  species,  which  has  no  protection  against  its 
numerous  enemies,  and  can  escape  by  flight  alone.  Its  peculiar 
color  must,  however,  minister  to  its  safety,  as  it  is  so  similar  to  the 
general  color  of  the  soil  as  to  require  a close  attention  to  distinguish 
the  animal,  which  is  usually  passed  without  being  observed  by 
such  as  are  not  especially  in  search  of  it.  Yet  the  swiftness  and 
other  natural  advantages  of  the  hare,  insufficient  to  secure  it  from 
the  artifices  of  man,  or  from  being  preyed  upon  by  various  beasts 
and  birds,  would  not  prevent  the  species  from  soon  being  extin- 
guished, were  it  not  for  its  remarkable  fecundity. 

During  the  day-time  the  hare  remains  crouched  within  its  form, 
which  is  a mere  spac#  of  the  size  of  the  animal,  upon  the  surface 
2 


26 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


of  the  ground,  cleared  of  grass,  and  sheltered  by  some  over-arching 
plant ; or  else  its  habitation  is  in  the  hollowed  trunk  of  a tree,  or 
under  a collection  of  stones,  (fee. 

It  is  commonly  at  the  earLest  dawn,  while  the  dew-drops  still  glit- 
ter on  the  herbage,  or  when  the  fresh  verdure  is  concealed  beneath  a 
mantle  of  glistening  frost,  that  the  timorous  hare  ventures  forth  in 
quest  of  food,  or  courses  undisturbed  over  the  plains.  Occasion- 
ally during  the  day,  in  retired  and  little  frequented  parts  of  the 


THE  HARE. 


country,  an  individual  is  seen  to  scud  from  the  path,  where  it  has 
been  basking  in  the  sun ; but  the  best  time  for  studying  the 
habits  of  the  animal  is  during  moon-light  nights,  when  the  hare 
is  to  be  seen  sporting  with  its  companions  in  unrestrained  gambols, 
frisking  with  delighted  eagerness  around  its  mate,  or  busily  engag- 
ed in  cropping  its  food.  On  such  occasions  the  turnip  and  cab- 
bage fields  suffer  severely,  where  these  animals  are  numerous, 
though  in  general  they  are  not  productive  of  serious  injury. 
However,  when  food  is  scarce,  they  do  much  mischief  to  the  far- 
mers, by  destroying  the  bark  on  the  young  trees  in  the  nurseries, 
and  by  cutting  valuable  plants. 

The  hare  is  not  hunted  in  this  country  as  in  Europe,  but  is  gen- 
erally roused  by  a dog,  and  shot,  or  is  caught  in  various  snares 
and  traj  s.  In  its  movements  our  hare  closely  resembles  the  com- 
mon hare  of  Europe,  bounding  along  with  great  celerity,  and  would 
no  doubt,  when  pursued,  resort  to  the  artifices  of  doubling,  <fee., 


QUADRUPEDS. 


27 


so  well  known  to  be  used  by  the  European  animal.  The  Ameri- 
can hare  breeds  several  times  during  the  year,  and  in  the  southern 
states  even  during  the  winter  months,  having  from  two  to  four  or 
six  at  a litter. 

In  summer  dress  the  American  hare  is  dark  brown  on  the  upper 
part  of  its  head,  a lighter  brown  on  the  sides,  and  of  an  ash  color 
below.  The  ears  are  wide  and  edged  with  white,  tipped  with 
brown,  and  very  dark  on  their  back  parts  ; their  sides  approach  to 
an  ash  color.  The  inside  of  the  neck  is  slightly  ferruginous  ; the 
belly  and  the  tail  are  small,  dark  above,  and  white  below,  having 
the  inferior  surface  turned  up.  The  hind  legs  are  covered  with 
more  white  than  dark  hairs,  and  both  fore  and  hind  feet  have  sharp 
pointed,  narrow,  and  nearly  straight  nails. 

In  -winter  the  fur  is  nearly  twice  the  length  of  what  it  is  in 
summer,  and  is  altogether,  or  very  nearly,  white.  The  weight  of 
the  animal  is  about  seven  pounds. 

This  species  is  about  fourteen  inches  in  length.  The  hind  legs 
are  ten  inches  long,  by  which  circumstance  it  is  most  strongly  dis- 
tinguished from  the  common  rabbit  of  Europe. 

The  use  of  coal  tar,  as  described  in  reference  to  the  rabbit,  will 
be  found  equally  efficacious  in  preserving  trees  from  the  attacks  of 
this  animal,  and  the  painting  of  gate-posts  and  palings  of  a white 
color  at  interval will,  to  a great  degree,  scare  them  from  the 
more  valuable  crops.  Hares  are  to  be  destroyed  by  the  gun,  by 
snares,  traps,  nets,  <fcc. 

The  Fox. — The  Fox  is  a serious  pest  of  the  farm  ; and  though 
of  service  in  the  destruction  of  other  pests,  yet  his  depredations  far 
exceed  his  usefulness  in  the  destruction  of  rabbits,  hares,  mice, 
moles,  &c. 

There  are  several  varieties  of  foxes.  Those  which  are  mainly 
farm  depredators  are  the  Red  Fox  and  the  Gray  Fox. 

The  red  fox  is  found  throughout  North  America,  and  is  the 
species  which  frequently  has  been  thought  identical  with  the  com- 
mon fox  of  Europe,  to  which  it  bears  a resemblance  sufficiently 
striking  to  mislead  an  incidental  observer.  But  by  the  fineness  of 
its  fur,  its  liveliness  of  color,  length  of  limbs  and  slenderness  of 
bouy,  as  well  as  the  form  of  its  skull,  it  is  obviously  distinguished. 

Red  foxes  are  very  numerous  in  the  middle  and  southern  states 
of  the  Union,  and  are  everywhere  notorious  depredators  on  the 
poultry-yards.  Their  haunts  are  most  commonly  in  exceedingly 
dense  thickets,  where  they  can  scarcely  be  followed,  even  ly  dogs. 


28 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


Like  all  his  kindred  species,  the  red  fox  is  distinguished  by  ths 
possession  of  keen  senses  and  great  sagacity  or  craftiness,  which 
enables  him  a most  to  bid  defiance  to  traps,  while  his  strength  and 
swiftness  of  foot  render  it  extremely  difficult  to  capture  him  in  the 
chase.  Once  fairly  roused  by  the  hounds,  this  animal  dashes  off 
with  great  speed,  and  soon  far  outstrips  pursuit,  and  did  he  not 
lose  the  advantage  of  his  celerity  by  remitting  his  efforts,  might 
soon  render  the  exertions  of  the  sportsman  nugatory.  But  the 


THE  FOX. 


perseveiing  hounds  again  and  again  drive  him  to  his  utmost  speed, 
and  eventually  wear  him  down,  though  not  until  a wide  extent  of 
country  has  been, traversed,  and  huntsmen,  horses  and  dogs  have 
suffered  severely  from  fatigue. 

The  general  color  of  this  fox  when  in  full  summer  pelage,  is 
bright  ferruginous  on  the  head,  back  and  sides,  but  less  brilliant 
towards  the  tail.  Beneath  the  chin  it  is  white,  while  the  throat 
and  neck  are  a dark  gray,  which  color  is  continued  along  the  an- 
terior part  of  the  belly  in  a narrower  stripe  that  passes  along  the 
breast.  The  under  parts  of  the  body  towards  the  tail  are  very 
pale  red ; and  the  anterior  parts  of  the  fore  legs  and  feet, 
as  well  as  the  fronts  of  the  inferior  part  of  the  hind  legs,  ar? 


QUADRUPEDS. 


29 


black.  The  tail  is  very  bushy,  but  less  ferruginous  than  .he  body, 
the  hairs  being  mostly  terminated  with  black,  which  is  more  ob- 
vious toward  the  extremity  than  at  the  origin  of  the  member,  giv- 
ing the  whole  a dark  appearance.  A few  of  the  hairs  are  lighter 
at  the  end  of  the  tail,  but  not  sufficiently  to  allow  us  to  state  that 
it  is  tipped  with  white. 

In  summer  the  fur  of  the  red  fox  is  long,  fine,  brilliant  in  color, 
and  lustrous  over  the  whole  body.  In  winter  its  length  and  dense- 
ness is  considerably  increased.  The  red  fox  is  nearly  two  feet 
long  and  about  eighteen  inches  high : the  tail  is  about  sixteen 
inches  long.  The  peltry  is  of  considerable  value,  and  employed  in 
various  ways  by  the  manufacturers. 

The  gray  fox  is  very  common  thn  >ughout  this  country,  and  is 
found  more  immediately  in  the  vicinity  of  human  habitations  than 
either  of  the  other  species.  It  is  pursued  by  our  sportsmen  with 
more  pleasure  than  the  red  fox,  because  it  does  not  immediately  for- 
sake its  haunts  and  run  for  miles  in  one  direction,  but,  after 
various  doublings,  is  generally  killed  near  the  place  whence  it  first 
started. 

The  gray  fox,  like  all  the  species  we  described,  exhibits  con- 
siderable differences  of  color  at  different  ages  and  in  different  states 
of  pelage.  The  length  of  the  head  and  body  is  about  twenty-four, 
and  of  the  tail  eleven  inches.  The  general  color  of  the  animal  is 
grizzly,  becoming  gradually  darker  from  the  fore  shoulders  to  the 
posterior  parts  of  the  back,  produced  by  the  intermixture  of  ful- 
vous hairs  with  those  constituting  the  mass  of  the  pelage,  whicli 
are  thus  colored  ; near  the  body  the  hair  is  rather  plumbeous,  then 
yellowish,  then  white,  and  then  uniformly  tipped  with  lustrous 
black.  The  front,  from  the  top  of  the  head  to  the  edge  of  the 
orbits,  is  gray,  while  the  rest  of  the  face,  from  the  internal  angle 
of  the  eye  to  within  half  an  inch  of  the  ext  emity  of  the  snout,  is 
blackish  ; at  the  extremity  on  each  side  of  the  granulated  black 
tip  of  the  nose  it  is  of  a yellowish  white.  A fine  line  of  black 
tipped  hairs  extends  upwards  and  outwards,  from  half  an  inch  be- 
low the  internal  angle  of  the  eyes  until  it  is  intersected  by  a simi- 
lar black  line  about  half  an  inch  beyond  the  external  angle  of  the 
eye,  thus  forming  a very  acute  triangle,  whose  base  is  on  the  side 
of  the  face.  This  blackish  gray  triangle,  joined  to  the  peculiar 
sharpness  of  the  face,  and  the  line  produced  by  the  black  whiskers 
on  the  sides  of  the.  nose,  singularly  increase  the  appearance  of  sly- 
ness and  cunning  expressed  in  the  physiognomy  of  this  animal. 


30 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


The  face  below  this  triangle  is  white,  and  the  latter  color  is  con 
tinued  semicircularly  upon  the  upper  part  of  the  throat. 

The  under  jaw  is  blackish,  this  color  extending  along  the  line  of 
the  mouth,  and  passing  about  half  an  inch  beyond  the  junction  of 
the  lips  at  the  angle.  The  inner  surface  of  the  ears  is  clothed  with 
short  light  yellowish  hair ; their  tips  on  the  outside  are  blackish 
gray,  and  the  whole  of  the  rest  of  their  posterior  surface  is  yellow 
which  color  descends  encircling  the  neck,  and  is  the  only  color  on 
the  anterior  parts,  with  the  exception  of  a white  spot  on  the 
breast.  The  inferior  parts  of  the  body  are  white,  tinted  slightly  in 
some  individuals  with  faint  reddish  brown.  The  tail  is  thick  and 
bushy,  and  the  fur  on  the  upper  side  is  pale  yellow,  slightly  tipped 
with  black  ; the  under  part  •>  are  rust  colored,  and  the  end  entirely 
black. 

The  most  common  method  of  destroying  foxes  is  by  hounds  and 
the  gun.  If  near  his  burrow,  to  avoid  the  dogs,  he  will  take  to 
the  earth,  and  has  then  to  be  dug  out ; he  will  sometimes  ascend 
an  inclined  tree,  and  is  then  to  be  shot  or  the  tree  felled,  when 
the  dogs  will  dispatch  him.  He  may  be  taken  by  traps  and  snares, 
but  of  these  he  is  very  wary.  The  most  easy  means  are  poi- 
soned meats,  prepared  and  used  as  pointed  out  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  wolves. 

Wolves. — There  are  several  varieties  of  wolves,  viz. : — The 
Common  Wolf, — the  Prairie  or  Barking  Wolf, — the  Dusky 
Wolf — and  the  Black  Wolf.  The  common,  prairie,  and  black 
ones  are  those  only  which  are  pests  of  the  farm.  In  all  new  set- 
tlements, and  in  the  prairie  region  of  our  country,  these  species  are 
dangerous  enemies  to  the  domestic  animals  of  the  farmer. 

The  Common  Wolf. — When  the  aboriginal  Americans  first 
gave  place  to  European  adventurers,  and  the  forests  which  had 
flourished  for  ages  undisturbed,  began  to  fall  before  the  unsparing 
axe,  the  vicinity  of  the  settler’s  lonely  cabin  resounded  with  the 
nightly  howlings  of  wolves,  attracted  by  the  refuse  provision  usu- 
ally to  be  found  there,  or  by  a disposition  to  prey  upon  the 
domestic  animals.  During  winter,  when  food  was  most  difficult  to 
be  procured,  packs  of  these  famished  and  ferocious  creatures  were 
ever  at  hand,  to  run  down  and  destroy  any  domestic  animal  found 
wandering  beyond  the  enclosures,  which  their  individual  or  com- 
bined efforts  could  overcome,  and  the  boldest  house-dog  could  not 
venture  far  from  the  door  of  his  master  without  incurring  the  risk 
ol  being  killed  and  devoured.  The  common  wolf  was  then  to  be 


QUADRUPEDS. 


31 


found  in  considerable  numbers  throughout  a great  extent,  if  not 
the  whole  of  North  America ; at  present  it  is  only  known  as  a re- 
sident of  the  remote  wooded  and  mountainous  districts  where  man 
has  just  commenced  to  fix  his  abode. 

The  common  wolf  of  America  is  considered  to  be  the  same 
species  as  the  wolf  of  Europe,  and  in  regard  to  habits  and  man- 
ners, gives  every  evidence  of  such  an  identity.  Like  all  the  wild 
animals  of  the  dog  kind,  they  unite  in  packs  to  hunt  down  animals 
which  individually  they  could  not  master,  and  during  their  sexual 
season,  engage  in  the  most  furious  combats  with  each  other  for  the 
possession  of  the  females. 

The  common  wolf  is  possessed  of  great  strength  and  fierceness, 
and  is  what  is  generally  called  a cruel  animal,  tearing  the  throat  of 
his  victim,  drinking  its  blood,  and  rending  it  open  for  the  purpose 
of  devouring  its  entrails.  The  great  strength  of  its  jaws  enables 
the  wolf  to  carry  off  with  facility  an  animal  nearly  as  large  as 
itself,  and  makes  its  bite  exceedingly  severe  and  dangerous.  Aged 
or  wounded  animals,  as  well  as  the  hinds  and  fawns  of  the  deer, 
sheep,  lambs,  calves  and  pigs,  are  killed  by  these  wolves,  and  the 
horse  is  said  to  be  the  only  domestic  animal  which  can  resist  them 
with  success.  They  gorge  with  much  greediness  upon  all  sorts  of 
carrion,  which  they  can  discover  at  great  distances ; and  where 
such  provision  is  to  be  obtained  in  great  plenty,  they  become  very 
fat  and  lose  their  ferocity  to  a singular  degree. 

When  this  wolf  has  been  caught  in  a trap,  and  is  approached 
by  man,  it  is  remarked  to  be  exceedingly  cowardly,  and  occasion- 
ally suffers  itself  to  be  beaten  without  offering  the  slightest  resist- 
ance. If  a dog  be  set  upon  a wolf  thus  captured,  the  assault  is 
patiently  endured  so  long  as  his  master  is  present ; but  as  soon  as 
the  wolf  is  freed  from  the  restraint  imposed  by  the  presence  of  his 
captor,  he  springs  upon  and  throttles  the  dog,  which,  if  not  speed- 
ily assisted,  pays  the  forfeit  of  his  presumption  and  temerity  with 
his  life.  The  voice  of  this  wolf  is  a prolonged  and  melancholy 
howl,  which,  when  uttered  by  numerous  individuals  at  once,  is  dis- 
cordant and  frightful.  The  period  of  gestation,  &c.,  in  this  species 
is  in  every  respect  analogous  to  that  of  the  common  dog. 

Animals  exposed  to  so  much  suffering  from  hunger,  we  may 
readily  believe,  are  in  no  way  exclusive  in  their  preference  of  food, 
and  these  wolves  may  be  said  to  feed  on  every  creature  they  can 
master,  or  on  the  remains  of  any  animal  left  by  the  natives. 

The  common  wolf  is  about  four  feet  and  a half  in  length, 


83 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


Meludlrg  the  tail,  which  is  rather  more  than  a foot  long.  The 
height,  before,  is  two  feet  three  inches ; behind,  it  is  two  feet  four 
inches.  The  tail  is  bushy  and  bending  downwards,  having  upon 
it  hairs  upwards  of  five  inches  in  length. 

The  general  color  of  this  wolf  is  reddish  brown,  intermixed  with 
ferruginous  and  black  ; but  a great  variety  is  to  be  observed  in  the 
coloring  of  the  wolf,  as  found  in  the  northern,  middle,  and  southern 
regions,  exhibiting  gradations  from  grizzly  white  to  pure  black. 

The  Prairie  or  Barking  Wolf. — This  wolf  frequents  tha 
prairies  or  natural  meadows  of  the  west,  where  troops  or  packs 
containing  a considerable  number  of  individuals  are  frequently  seen 
following  in  the  train  of  a herd  of  buffalo  or  deer,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  preying  on  such  as  may  die  from  disease,  or  in  conse- 
quence of  wounds  inflicted  by  the  hunters.  At  night  they  also 
approach  the  encampments  of  travelers,  whom  they  sometimes 
follow  for  the  sake  of  the  carcasses  of  animals  which  are  relin- 
quished, and  by  their  discordant  howlings,  close  to  the  tents,  effec- 
tually banish  sleep  from  those  who  are  unaccustomed  to  their 
noise.  According  to  Say’s  observation  they  are  more  numerous 
than  any  of  the  other  wolves  which  are  found  in  North  America. 

The  barking  wolf  closely  resembles  the  domestic  dog  of  the  In- 
dians in  appearance,  and  is  remarkably  active  and  intelligent. 
Like  the  common  wolf,  the  individuals  of  this  species  frequently 
unite  to  run  down  deer,  or  a buffalo  calf  which  has  been  separated 
from  the  herd,  though  it  requires  the  fullest  exercise  of  all  their 
speed,  sagacity  and  strength,  to  succeed  in  this  chase.  They  are 
very  often  exposed  to  great  distress  from  want  of  food,  and  in  this 
state  of  famine  are  under  the  necessity  of  filling  their  stomachs 
with  wild  plums,  or  other  fruits  no  less  indigestible,  in  order  to 
allay  in  some  degree  the  inordinate  sensations  of  hunger. 

This  wolf  barks  in  such  a manner  as  to  resemble  the  domestic 
dog  very  distinctly ; the  first  two  or  three  notes  are  not  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  those  produced  by  a small  tenier,  but  differs  from 
that  of  the  dog  by  adding  to  these  sounds  a lengthened  scream. 

The  barking  wolf  is  about  three  feet  and  a-half  in  length,  of 
which  the  tail  forms  thirteen  and  a-half  inches,  exclusive  of  the 
hair  at  its  extremity.  The  ears  are  four  inches  long  from  the  top 
of  the  head,  and  the  distance  from  the  anterior  canthus  of  the  eye 
to  the  end  of  the  snout  is  three  inches  and  three-fourths. 

The  general  color  of  the  barking  wolf  is  cinerious,  or  gray  inter- 
mingled with  black,  and  dull  fulvous  or  cinnamon  above.  The 


QUADRUPEDS. 


33 


THE  BLACK  WOLF. 

The  American  Black  Wolf. — The  American  black  wolf,  al- 
though less  common  than  the  other  varieties,  is  considered  more 
dangerous  and  ferocious,  sometimes  making  sad  havoc  among 
sheep  and  lambs.  It  is  found  more  or  less  abundant  throughout 
the  wooded  districts  of  the  Canadas,  the  northern  states,  and  of  the 
entire  Alleghany  range,  to  their  termination  in  Georgia. 

The  length  of  this  animal  is  about  five  feet  eight  inches,  of 
which  the  tail  occupies  one  foot  eight  inches ; the  height  at  the 
fore  shoulders  about  two  feet  three  inches,  and  the  girth  of  the 
body  about  two  feet  seven  inches.  The  general  color  of  the  body 
is  brownish-black,  somewhat  mottled  with  darker  shades;  the 
belly  much  lighter,  with  a broad  stripe  of  black,  undefined  at  the 
edges,  running  up  the  breast;  the  back  blackish,  very  slightly 
mottled  with  white,  caused  by  the  intermixture  of  different  hairs  ; 
the  body  is  covered  with  a soft,  thick  down,  light  gray  at  the  roots, 
3* 


hair  is  of  a dusky  lead  color  at  base,  of  a dull  cinnamon  in  the 
middle  of  its  length,  and  gray  or  black  at  tip,  being  of  greater 
length  along  the  middle  of  the  back  and  other  parts  of  the  body. 
The  ears  are  erect  and  rounded  at  tip,  having  the  hair  on  the  back 
part  of  a cinnamon  color,  and  dark  plumbeous  at  base,  while  that 
on  the  inside  is  gray. 


u 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


and  brownisL  gray  at  the  end  ; besides  this  fur,  there  is  likewise  a 
longer  hair  •v.hich  is  the  general  color  of  the  animal ; this  hair  on 
the  back  is  white  at  the  roots,  then  black,  then  pure  white,  then 
black  again  at  the  tip,  giving  a speckled  appearance  to  the  back. 
The  tail  is  large  and  bushy  ; the  hair  long,  loose,  and  nearly  black, 
as  also  is  the  throat  and  breast.  The  feet  and  legs  are  black  ; the 
hair  on  the  front  of  the  legs  close,  bristly,  and  shining.  The  head 
is  black  with  the  face  covered  with  short,  close  hair ; the  nose 
pointed,  small,  and  black  ; the  ears  short,  pointed,  and  upright. 

The  black  wolf  is  much  stronger  than  a dog  of  the  same  size, 
and  his  mode  of  biting  is  very  different  from  that  of  a dog.  In- 
stead of  retaining  his  hold,  like  a dog,  when  he  seizes  his  enemy, 
he  bites  by  repeated  snaps,  given,  however,  with  great  force,  often 
lacerating  the  flesh  a foot  or  more  to  each  jerk.  Like  all  carnivo- 
rous animals,  his  thirst  for  blood  is  irresistible,  and  he  often  kills 
his  victim  without  devouring  the  carcass,  drinking  the  blood,  the 
only  part  agreeable  to  his  palate.  When  pressed  with  hunger,  he 
destroys  every  other  creature  he  can  master,  and  it  is  believed 
that,  during  the  year,  he  consumes  at  least  thirty  times  his  own 
weight  of  animal  food,  which,  in  cultivated  countries,  renders  his 
injurious  character  more  apparent,  from  the  large  number  of  do- 
mestic animals  he  necessarily  must  slay.  In  winter,,  when  the 
ground  is  covered  with  snow,  and  he  finds  his  prey  to  be  scarce  in 
his  natural  haunts,  he  becomes  exceedingly  bold,  intrudes  into  the 
sheep-folds  and  pigTsties,  and  even  into  villages  or  populous  towns, 
in  quest  of  food. 

The  ordinary  method  of  capturing  wolves  is  in  winter,  by  means 
of  a steel  trap.  It  has  been  found,  however,  that  the  most  success- 
ful method  of  destroying  them  is,  to  drug  small  sausages  with 
strychnine,  or  nux  vomica,  and  hang  them  on  the  boughs  of  trees, 
at  such  a height,  that  the  wolf  must  leap  to  obtain  them.  Under 
these  circumstances  the  animal  swallows  the  bait  at  once,  and  has 
not  time  to  find  out  that  it  contains  any  suspicious  admixture, 
which  he  often  does,  if  the  poison  be  applied  to  the  carcasses  of 
sheep,  horses,  &c.  Another  mode  of  poisoning  them  is  this  : The 
kernels  of  nux  vomica  are  grated  or  powdered,  then  mixed  up  with 
three  or  four  times  their  bulk  of  fat  or  grease,  and  honey  (wolves 
are  very  fond  of  the  latter),  and  made  into  balls  about  as  large  as 
a hen’s  egg.  These  are  placed  in  the  woods,  covered  with  a piece 
of  flesh  or  tripe,  and  some  offal  is  hung  on  a tree  near  the  spot,  to 


QUADRUPEDS. 


36 


attract  the  wolves  by  its  scent.  The  poison  once  taken  is  sure  to 
prove  fatal,  before  the  animals  can  proceed  many  rods. 

The  common  and  the  black  wolf  are  usually  destroyed  in  two 
ways.  When  annoyed  by  them  the  farmers  frequently  unite,  and 
by  a general  battue  destroy  them.  This  is  effected,  by  forming 
about  the  observed  retreats  of  the  wolf,  a large  circle  of  two  or 
three  miles  in  diameter.  The  hunters  gradually  close  in  on  the 
point  of  hiding,  and  hedge  the  wolf  in,  when  he  is  easily  de- 
stroyed. 

A frequent  means  of  destruction  is  a deep  pit.  This  is  dug  so 
deep  as  to  prevent  the  wolf  from  jumping  out,  once  he  is  in.  The 
pit  is  baited  with  a dead  sheep  or  animal  or  carrion.  The  wolf 
jumps  down  for  his  prey,  gorges  himself,  and  then  seeks  to 
escape,  but  in  vain.  His  bowlings  soon  inform  the  farmer  or 
hunter  of  his  imprisonment,  when  the  pit  is  visited  and  the  pri- 
soner killed. 

The  prairie  wolf  is  too  sagacious  to  be  caught  by  traps.  He 
may  be  poisoned  like  the  other  varieties.  He  is  frequently  shot. 
Occupying  the  open  prairie  he  is  good  game  for  the  grayhound, 
and  is  often  chased  by  him.  Once  the  grayhound  sights  him,  if  in 
the  open  prairie,  the  wolf  must  be  near  the  cover  of  a wood,  or  he 
has  not  the  least  chance  of  an  escape.  Being  small,  a brace  of 
grayhounds  soon  dispatch  him.  He  may  be  taken  in  pits,  but  is 
very  shy  of  them. 

The  Woodchuck. — This  animal  is  the  arctomys  monax  or  mar- 
mot. Among  the  country  people  it  bears  the  name  of  woodchuck 
and  ground-hog,  the  latter  being  expressive  of  its  habits  of  bur- 
rowing and  peculiar  voracity. 

The  woodchuck  is  the  cause  of  great  injury,  especially  to  the 
farmers  engaged  in  the  cultivation  of  clover,  as  their  numbers  be- 
come very  considerable,  and  the  quantity  of  herbage  they  consume 
is  really  surprising.  They  are  more  capable  of  doing  mischief 
from  the  circumstance  of  their  extreme  vigilance  and  acute  sense 
of  hearing,  as  well  as  from  the  security  afforded  them  by  their  ex- 
tensive subterranean  dwellings. 

When  about  to  make  an  inroad  upon  a clover-field,  all  the 
woodchucks  resident  in  the  vicinity  quietly  and  cautiously  steal 
toward  the  spot,  being  favored  in  their  march  by  their  gray  color, 
which  is  not  easily  distinguished.  While  the  main  body  are 
actively  engaged  in  cropping  the  clover-heads  and  gorging  theii 
ample  cheek-pouches,  one  or  more  individuals  remain  at  some  dis 


S6 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


tance  in  the  rear  as  sentinels.  These  watchmen  sit  erect,  with 
their  fore-paws  hold  close  to  their  breast,  and  their  heads  slightly 
inclined  to  catch  every  sound  which  may  move  the  air.  Their  ex- 
treme sensibility  of  ear  enables  them  to  distinguish  the  approach 
of  an  enemy  long  before  he  is  sufficiently  near  to  be  dangerous, 
and  the  instant  the  sentinel  takes  alarm  he  gives  a clear  shrill 
whistle,  which  immediately  disperses  the  troop  in  every  direction, 
and  they  speedily  take  refuge  in  their  deepest  caves.  The  time  at 
which  such  incursions  are  made  is  generally  about  mid-day,  when 


THE  WOODCHUCK. 

taey  are  less  liable  to  be  interrupted  than  at  any  other  period, 
either  by  human  or  brute  enemies. 

The  habitations  of  the  woodchuck  are  formed  by  burrowing 
into  banks,  the  sides  of  hills,  or  other  similar  situations,  by  which 
the  access  of  water  is  prevented.  In  forming  the  burrow,  where 
the  ground  is  soft,  the  fore-paws  are  the  principal  agents ; the 
strength  of  the  animal’s  fore  limbs  is  very  great.  Where  the  soil 
is  hard  and  compact,  the  long  cutting  teeth  are  very  freely  and  effi- 
ciently employed,  and  we  have  been  surprised  to  see  large  stones 
and  lumps  of  hardened  clay  dug  out  in  this  way. 

The  burrows  extend  to  great  distances  under  ground,  and  ter- 
minate in  various  chambers,  according  to  the  number  of  inhabit- 
ants. In  these,  very  comfortable  beds  are  made  by  the  wood- 
chuck, of  dry  leaves,  grass,  or  any  soft  dry  rubbish  to  be  collected. 
It  is  really  surprising  to  see  the  vast  quantity  of  such  material  an 
individual  will  cram  into  his  mouth  to  carry  off  for  this  purpose. 
He  firsts  grasps  with  the  teeth  as  much  as  he  possibly  can  ; then 
sitting  erect,  with  both  fore-paws  he  stuffs  the  mass  projecting  on 
each  side  deeper  into  the  mouth,  and  having  arranged  it  satisfac- 
torily, takes  up  successive  portions,  which  are  treated  in  like  man- 


QUADRUPEDS. 


37 


ner ; during  the  whole  time  the  head  is  moved  up  and  down  to 
aid  in  filling*  the  mouth  to  the  very  utmost.  This  is  repeated  until 
every  fragment  at  hand  is  collected,  and  the  whole  transferred  to 
the  sleeping  apartment,  into  which  the  woodchuck  retires  towards 
the  decline  of  the  day,  and  remains  there  until  the  morning  is  far 
advanced.  At  some  seasons  of  the  year  the  woodchuck  is  seen 
out  on  moonlight  nights  at  a considerable  distance  from  the  bur- 
row, either  in  search  of  better  pasture  or  looking  for  a mate  ; on 
such  occasions,  when  attacked  by  a dog,  the  woodchuck  makes 
battle,  and  when  the  individual  is  full-grown,  his  bite  is  very  se- 
vere. The  teeth  of  the  dog  give  him  vast  superiority  in  the  com- 
bat, as  when  once  he  seizes,  he  is  sure  of  the  hold  until  the  parts 
bitten  are  torn  through,  while  the  woodchuck  can  merely  pinch 
his  foreteeth  together,  and  must  renew  his  attempts  very  frequent- 
ly. The  fight  is  also  soon  ended  by  the  dog  seizing  the  wood- 
chuck by  the  small  of  the  back,  and  crushing  the  spine  so  as  to 
disable  his  antagonist  effectually. 

The  woodchuck  is  to  be  destroyed  by  dogs.  The  most  of  farm 
dogs  are  very  fond  of  pursuing  them.  If  the  woodchuck  escape 
to  his  hole,  the  dog  will  readily  dig  him  out.  But  a speedier  way 
is  to  smoke  his  hole,  and  drive  him  out,  when  the  dog  readily 
catches  and  destroys  him.  He  is  easily  shot,  and  may  be  handily 
taken  in  traps. 

The  Raccoon. — There  are  few  parts  of  the  American  continent 
in  which  the  Racoon  has  not,  at  some  period,  been  found  native, 
from  the  borders  of  Nootka  Sound  to  the  forests  of  Mexico,  and 
still  more  southern  regions. 

Were  we  to  form  an  opinion  of  this  animal’s  character  solely 
from  external  appearances,  the  mingled  expression  of  sagacity  and 
innocence  exhibited  in  his  aspect,  his  personal  neatness  and  gentle 
movements,  might  all  incline  us  to  believe  that  he  possessed  a 
guileless  and  placable  disposition.  But  in  this,  as  in  most  other 
cases,  where  judgments  are  formed  without  sufficient  examination, 
we  should  be  in  error,  and  find,  that  to  the  capricious  mischievous- 
ness of  the  monkey,  the  racoon  adds  a blood-thirsty  and  vindictive 
spirit,  peculiarly  his  own.  In  the  wild  state,  this  sanguinary  appe- 
tite frequently  leads  to  his  own  destruction,  which  his  nocturnal 
habits  might  otherwise  avert ; but  as  he  slaughters  the  tenants  of 
the  poultry-yard  with  indiscriminate  ferocity,  the  vengeance  of  the 
plundered  farmer  speedily  retaliates  on  him  the  death  so  liberally 
dealt  among  the  feathered  victims.  This  destructive  propensity  of 


38 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


Che  raccoon  is  more  remarkable,  when  we  observe  that  his  teeth  are 
not  unsuited  for  eating  fruits.  When  he  destroys  wild  or  domes- 
ticated birds,  he  puts  to  death  a great  number  without  consuming 
any  part  of  them,  except  the  head,  or  the  blood  which  is  sucked 
from  the  neck. 

Being  peculiarly  fond  of  sweet  substances,  the  raccoon  is  occa- 
sionally very  destructive  to  plantations  of  sugar  cane,  and  of 
Indian  corn.  While  the  ear  of  the  Indian  corn  is  still  young,  soft 
and  tender,  “ in  the  milk,”  it  is  very  sweet,  and  is  then  eagerly 
sought  by  the  raccoons  ; troops  of  them  frequently  enter  fields  of 
maize,  and  in  one  night  commit  extensive  depredations,  both  by 
the  quantity  of  grain  they  consume,  and  from  the  number  of  stalks 
they  break  down  by  their  weight. 

The  raccoon  is  an  excellent  climber,  and  his  strong  sharp  claws 
effectually  secure  him  from  being  shaken  off  the  branches  of  trees. 
In  fact,  so  tenaciously  does  this  animal  hold  to  any  surface  upon 
which  it  can  make  an  impression  with  its  claws,  that  it  requires  a 
considerable  exertion  of  a man’s  strength  to  drag  him  off ; and  as 
long  as  even  a single  foot  remains  attached,  he  continues  to  cling 
with  great  force. 

The  conical  form  of  the  head,  and  the  very  pointed  and  flexible 
character  of  the  muzzle  or  snout,  are  of  great  importance  in  aiding 
the  raccoon  to  examine  every  vacuity  and  crevice  to  which  he 
gains  access ; nor  does  he  neglect  any  opportunity  of  using  his 
natural  advantages,  but  explores  every  nook  and  cranny,  with  the 
most  persevering  diligence  and  attention,  greedily  feeding  on  spi- 
ders, worms,  or  other  insects  which  are  discovered  by  the  scrutiny. 
Where  the  opening  is  too  small  to  give  admittance  to  his  nose,  he 
employs  his  fore-paws,  and  shifts  his  position  or  turns  his  paws 
sidewise,  in  order  to  facilitate  their  introduction  and  effect  his  pur- 
pose. This  disposition  to  feed  on  the  grubs  or  larvae  of  insects 
must  render  this  animal  of  considerable  utility  in  forest  lands,  in 
consequence  of  the  great  numbers  of  injurious  and  destructive  in- 
sects he  consumes.  He  is  also  said  to  catch  frogs  with  consider- 
able address,  by  slily  creeping  up,  and  then  springing  on  them,  so 
as  to  grasp  them  with  both  paws. 

The  size  of  the  raccoon  varies  with  the  age  and  sex  of  the  indi- 
vidual. A full  grown  male  may  be  stated  to  have  the  body  a 
foot,  or  a few  inches  more,  in  length  ; the  highest  part  of  the  back 
is  about  a foot  from  the  ground,  while  the  highest  part  of  the 
shoulder  is  ten  inches  The  head  is  about  five,  and  the  tail  rather 


QUADRUPEDS. 


39 


more  than  eight  inches  long.  The  female  is  larger  than  the  male 
in  every  respect,  at  least  such  is  the  fact  in  relation  to  the  raccoons 
now  in  my  possession,  which,  however,  have  not  yet  attained  their 
full  growth.  They  are  of  the  same  age,  and  the  female  is  strongly 
distinguished  from  the  male  by  the  black  markings  on  all  parts  ox 
the  body  being  more  purely  black,  and  the  fur  and  hair  longer, 
thicker,  and  more  glossy  than  that  of  the  male ; these  peculiarities, 
in  addition  to  her  greater  size,  uniformly  lead  strangers  to  suppose 
this  individual  to  be  the  male,  instead  of  the  female.  The  pelage 
of  the  male  is  not  only  less  purely  black  at  the  extremities  of  the 
hairs,  but  there  is  a much  greater  intermixture  of  fawn-colored 
hair  than  in  the  female,  giving  more  of  a rusty  appearance  to  the 
whole  surface  of  his  body.  A young  raccoon  of  thirty  days  old 
is  about  the  size  of  a common  cat  of  a year  old,  though  the  greater 
length  of  its  legs  and  the  bushiness  of  its  pelage,  make  it  at  first 
sight  appear  much  larger. 

The  general  color  of  the  body  is  a blackish  gray,  which  is  paler 
on  the  under  part  of  the  body,  and  has  over  considerable  part  of 
the  neck,  back  and  sides,  some  fawn  or  light  rust-colored  hair  in- 
termixed. The  general  gray  color  is  owing  to  the  manner  in 
which  the  hairs  are  alternately  ringed  with  black  and  dingy 
white.  The  tail  is  very  thickly  covered  with  hair,  and  is  marked 
by  five  or  six  black  rings  round  it,  on  a yellowish  white  ground. 

The  head,  which  is  about  five  inches  long,  is  very  triangular, 
and  from  its  pointed  snout  reminds  us  of  the  aspect  of  the  fox  : 
the  snout  terminates  in  a smooth  and  shining  black  membrane, 
through  which  the  nostrils  open,  having  the  slit  to  rise  slightly  at 
the  sides.  The  nose  is  prolonged  considerably  beyond  the  upper 
jaw,  and  this,  together  with  its  great  flexibility,  gives  the  animal 
great  advantages  in  exploring  little  crevices  and  crannies  for  in- 
sects, <fee.  The  pupils  of  the  eyes  are  round  ; the  ears  are  oval,  or 
rather  elliptic,  and  of  a yellowish  white  color  on  their  extremities 
and  anterior  edges.  The  face  is  whitish,  in  front,  but  there  is  a 
black  patch  surrounding  the  eye,  that  descends  entirely  to  the 
lower  jaw,  over  the  posterior  part  of  which  it  is  diffused,  and  a 
black  line  running  from  the  top  of  the  head  down  the  middle 
of  the  face,  ending  below  the  eyes.  The  rest  of  the  hair  between 
the  eyes,  the  ears,  and  eye-brows,  is  almost  entirely  white,  and  di- 
rected downwards.  The  hair  on  the  muzzle  is  usually  very  short ; 
on  the  feet  also,  and  on  one-half  of  the  legs  ; the  short  hair  of  the 


40 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


feet  and  legs  is  of  a dirty  whitish  color.  The  ' . t< 

upper  lip  are  long  and  strong. 

All  the  feet  have  five  toes  each,  terminated  t strong  curved 
and  pointed  claws  ; and  each  foot  is  furnished  with  five  thick  and 
very  elastic  tubercles  beneath.  The  first  toe  or  thumb  of  the  fore- 
foot is  the  shortest  of  all ; the  little  or  external  finger  is  next  in 
length,  and  then  the  fore-finger ; the  remaining  two  are  equal. 
The  first  tubercle,  which  is  a very  strong  one,  is  situated  near  the 
wrist ; the  second  is  at  the  base  of  the  little  finger ; the  third  at 
the  root  of  the  inner  finger  or  thumb ; the  fourth  opposite  the 
second  digit,  and  the  fifth  opposite  the  two  longest.  The  hind  feet 
are  throughout  similar,  except  that  the  first  tubercle  is  farther  dis- 
tant from  the  heel. 

The  pelage  of  the  raccoon  is  subject  to  considerable  variations 
of  color  at  different  periods  of  life,  and  in.  different  individuals. 
The  rings  on  the  tail  and  the  patches  around  the  eyes  are,  how- 
ever, uniform  and  constant.  The  tail  of  the  raccoon  is  not  affected 
by  the  coldest  weather ; hence  this  quadruped  is  never  known  to 
gnaw  his  tail,  as  has  been  observed  of  animals  closely  allied  to  it 
in  configuration  and  habits. 

As  the  habits  of  the  raccoon  are  nocturnal  he  is  not  easily  shot. 
He  may  readily  be  taken  by  snares  and  traps.  He  is  frequently 
hunted  at  night  in  August  and  September,  during  the  period  of 
green  corn,  with  dogs.  He  escapes  to  a tree,  which  is  cut  down, 
and  the  dogs  seize  him  as  he  comes  to  the  ground. 

The  Black  Bear. — There  are  three  varieties  of  the  Bear 
in  America,  viz. : the  American  or  Black  Bear,  the  Grizzly  Bear, 
and  the  Polar  Bear.  The  Black  Bear  alone  is  a pest  of  the  farm. 

This  bear  is  found  throughout  North  America,  from  the  shores 
of  the  Arctic  Sea  to  its  most  southern  extremity. 

The  black  bear,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  is  not  remarkably 
ferocious,  nor  is  he  in  the  habit  of  attacking  man  without  provoca- 
tion. But  when  wounded,  he  turns  on  the  aggressor  with  great 
fury,  and  defends  himself  desperately.  This  disposition  is  more 
fully  manifested  during  the  coupling  season,  because  the  males  are 
then  highly  excited,  and  are  not  so  inert  and  clumsy  as  in  the 
autumn,  when  they  are  exceedingly  fat. 

When  the  winters  are  severe  at  the  north,  and  they  find  a diffi- 
culty of  procuring  fo6d,  they  travel  to  the  southern  regions  in 
considerable  bodies. 

The  sight  and  hearing  appear  to  be  the  most  acute  of  the 


QUADRUPEDS. 


41 


senses  in  this  bear.  Although  he  kills  many  small  animals,  he 
does  not  follow  them  by  the  smell.  When  he  walks,  his  gait  is 
heavy  and  apparently  awkward,  and  when  running  is  not  much 
less  so,  but  his  strength  of  body  enables  him  to  move  with 
considerable  celerity,  and  for  a long  time. 

The  females  bring  forth  their  young  in  the  winter  time,  and  ex- 
hibit for  them  a degree  of  attachment  which  nothing  can  surpass. 
They  usually  have  two  cubs,  which  are  suckled  until  they  are  well 
grown.  The  fondness  existing  between  the  mother  and  cubs 
seems  to  be  mutual,  and  no  danger  can  separate  her  from  them, 
nor  anything,  short  of  death  itself,  induce  her  to  forsake  them. 


THE  BEAR. 

Black  bears  are  still  numerous  in  the  wooded  and  thinly  settled 
parts  of  the  Stages  of  the  Union,  and  where  their  favorite  food  is 
plenteous  they  grow  to  a great  size,  and  afford  a large  quantity 
of  oil. 

The  food  of  this  animal  is  principally  grapes,  plums,  whortle- 
berries, persimmons,  bramble  and  other  berries ; they  are  also  par- 
ticularly fond  of  the  acorns  of  the  live  oak.  They  are  also  very 
fond  of  the  different  kinds  of  nuts  am.,  esculent  roots,  and  often 
ramble  to  great  distances  from  their  dens  in  search  of  whortleber- 
ries, mulberries,  and  indeed  all  sweet  flavored  and  spicy  fruits  : 
birds,  small  quadrupeds,  insects,  and  eggs,  are  also  devoured  by 


42 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


them  whenever  they  can  be  obtained.  They  are  occasionally  very 
injurious  to  the  frontier  settlers,  by  their  incursions  in  search  of 
potatoes  and  young  corn,  both  of  which  are  favorite  articles  of 
food ; their  claws  enable  them  to  do  great  mischief  in  potato 
grounds,  as  they  can  dig  up  a large  number  in  a very  short  time, 
and  where  the  bears  are  numerous  their  ravages  are  occasionally 
very  extensive. 

In  the  north,  the  flesh  of  the  black  bear  is  fittest  for  the  table 
after  the  middle  of  July,  when  the  berries  begin  to  ripen,  though 
some  berries  impart  a very  disagreeable  flavor  to  their  flesh.  They 
remain  in  good  condition  until  the  following  January  or  February ; 
late  in  the  spring  they  are  much  emaciated,  and  their  flesh  is  dry 
and  disagreeable  in  consequence  of  their  long  fasting  through  the 
season  of  their  torpidity.  Their  flesh  is  also  rendered  rank  and 
disagreeable  by  feeding  on  herring  spawn,  which  they  seek  and 
devour  with  greediness,  whenever  it  is  to  be  obtained.  The  south- 
ern Indians  kill  great  numbers  of  these  bears  at  all  seasons  of  the 
year,  but  no  inducement  can  be  offered  to  prevent  them  from 
singeing  off  the  hair  of  all  that  are  in  good  condition  for  eating, 
as  the  flesh  of  the  bear  is  as  much  spoiled  by  skinning  as  pork 
would  be ; the  skins  these  people  bring  the  traders  are  conse- 
quently only  such  as  are  obtained  from  bears  that  are  too  poor  to 
be  eaten. 

The  black  bear  is  in  fact  very  indiscriminate  in  his  feeding  ; and 
though  suited  by  nature  for  the  almost  exclusive  consumption  of 
vegetable  food,  yet  refuses  scarcely  anything  when  pressed  by  hun- 
ger. He  is  moreover  voracious  as  well  as  indiscriminate  in  satisfy- 
ing his  appetite,  and  frequently  gorges  until  his  stomach  loathes 
and  rejects  its  contents.  He  seeks,  with  great  assiduity,  for  the 
larvae  or  grub-worms  of  various  insects,  and  exerts  a surprising  de- 
gree of  strength  in  turning  over  large  trunks  of  fallen  trees, 
which,  whenever  sufficiently  decayed  to  admit  of  it,  he  tears  to 
pieces  in  search  of  worms. 

The  usual  residence  of  the  black  bear  is  in  the  most  remote  and 
secluded  parts  of  the  forest,  where  his  den  is  either  in  the  hollow 
of  some  decayed  tree,  or  in  a cavern  formed  among  the  rocks. 
To  this  place  he  retires  when  his  hunger  is  appeased,  and  in  the 
winter  he  lies  coiled  up  there  during  the  long  period  of  his  torpid- 
ity The  female  of  the  black  bear,  during  the  period  of  gesta- 
tion, which  commences  in  the  month  of  October,  and  continues  for 


QUADRUPEDS. 


43 


about  one  hundred  and  twelve  days,  leads  a retired  and  concealed 
life. 

In  the  northern  parts  of  this  continent,  the  subterraneous  re- 
treats of  the  black  bear  may  be  readily  discovered  by  the  mist 
which  uniformly  hangs  about  the  entrance  of  the  den,  as  the  ani- 
mal’s heat  and  breathing  prevent  the  mouth  of  the  cave  from 
being  entirely  closed,  however  deep  the  snow  may  be.  As  the 
black  bear  usually  retires  to  his  winter  quarters  before  any  quan- 
tity of  snow  has  fallqn,  and  does  not  again  venture  abroad,  if  un- 
disturbed, until  the  end  of  March  or  beginning  of  April,  he  must 
consequently  spend  at  least  four  months  in  a state  of  torpidity, 
and  without -obtaining  food.  It  is  therefore  not  surprising  that, 
although  the  bear  goes  into  his  winter  quarters  in  a state  of  ex- 
cessive fatness,  he  should  come  out  in  the  spring  of  the  year  ex- 
tremely emaciated. 

The  northern  Indians  occasionally  destroy  the  bear  by  blocking 
up  the  mouth  of  the  cave  with  logs  of  wood,  and  then  breaking 
open  the  top  of  it,  kill  the  animal  with  a spear  or  gun.  Some- 
times they  throw  a noose  round  his  neck,  draw  him  up  to  the  top 
of  the  hole,  and  kill  him  with  a hatchet. 

The  black  bear  is  occasionally  captured  in  large  and  strong  steel 
traps,  well  secured  by  a chain  to  a neighboring  tree,  and  laid  in  a 
path  over  which  a freshly-killed  carcass  has  been  drawn  along, — 
or  he  is  taken  in  a noose  suspended  from  a strong  sapling.  A 
common  mode  of  hunting  this  animal  is  to  follow  him  with  two  or 
three  well-trained  dogs.  When  he  finds  that  he  is  pursued,  he 
generally  pushes  directly  forward  for  eight  or  ten  miles,  or  farther, 
if  not  overtaken ; as  the  dogs  come  up  with  him  their  repeated  at- 
tacks cause  him  to  turn  for  the  purpose  of  striking  at  them,  and  if 
they  do  not  dexterously  avoid  his  blows  they  will  be  killed,  as  he 
strikes  with  very  great  force.  To  avoid  the  vexation  produced  by 
the  dogs,  he  mounts  a tree,  ascending  for  twenty  or  thirty  feet,  but 
is  allowed  very  little  rest,  for  the  hunter  now  approaching,  lie 
throws  himself  to  the  earth,  and  hurries  onwards,  being  still  pur- 
sued and  worried  by  the  dogs.  Again  he  is  obliged  to  take  refuge 
in  a tree,  and  sometimes  climbs  as  near  as  possible  to  the  top,  en- 
deavoring to  conceal  himself  among  the  foliage.  The  hunter  now 
strikes  against  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  as  if  engaged  in  cutting  it 
down  ; the  poor  bear  soon  betrays  his  hiding-place,  and  slipping 
to  the  end  of  the  longest  branch,  gathers  his  body  up,  and  drops 
from  a vast  height  to  the  ground,  whence  he  often  appears  to  re- 


44 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


bound  for  several  feet,  and  then  runs  off  as  actively  as  he  can. 
At  length,  worn  out  by  frequently  repeated  exertions  to  escape,  he 
is  finally  shot,  while  attempting  to  screen  himself  by  aid  of  the 
trunk  of  a tree,  or  while  employed  in  resisting  the  attacks  of  the 
dogs. 

Among  other  modes  of  killing  the  black  bear  the  Indians  em- 
ploy a trap  composed  of  logs,  which,  when  the  animal  attempts  to 
remove  the  bait,  either  falls  on  his  body  and  kills  him  outright,  or 
secures  him  until  he  is  put  to  death  by  the  proprietor  of  the  snare. 

The  black  bear,  like  all  the  species  of  this  genus,  is  very  tena- 
cious of  life,  and  seldom  falls  unless  shot  through  the  brain  or 
heart.  An  experienced  hunter  never  advances  on  a bear  that  has 
fallen,  without  first  stopping  to  load  his  rifle,  as  the  beast  fre- 
quently recovers  to  a considerable  degree,  and  would  then  be  a 
most  dangerous  adversary.  The  skull  of  the  bear  appears  actually 
to  be  almost  impenetrable,  and  a rifle  ball,  fired  at  a distance  of 
ninety-six  yards,  has  been  flattened  against  it,  without  appearing 
to  do  any  material  injury  to  the  bone.  The  best  place  to  direct 
blows  against  the  bear  is  upon  his  snout ; when  struck  elsewhere, 
his  dense,  woolly  coat,  thick  hide  and  robust  muscles,  render  ma- 
nual violence  almost  entirely  unavailing. 

When  the  bear  is  merely  wounded,  it  is  very  dangerous  to  at- 
tempt to  kill  him  with  such  a weapon  as  a knife  or  tomahawk,  or 
indeed  anything  which  may  bring  one  within  his  reach.  In  this 
way  hunters  and  others  have  paid  very  dearly  for  their  rashness, 
and  barely  escaped  with  their  lives. 

The  black  bear,  in  common  with  other  species  of  this  genus,  en- 
deavors to  suffocate  an  adversary  by  violently  hugging  and  compress- 
ing its  chest.  A man  might  end  such  a struggle  in  a few  instants, 
if  one  hand  be  sufficiently  at  liberty  to  grasp  the  throat  of  the 
animal  with  the  thumb  and  fingers,  externally,  just  at  the  root  of 
the  tongue,  as  a slight  degree  of  compression  there  will  generally 
suffice  to  produce  a spasm  of  the  glottis,  that  will  soon  suffocate  it 
beyond  the  power  of  offering  resistance  or  doing  injury. 

The  black  bear  differs  from  other  species  of  the  genus  by  having 
the  nose  and  forehead  nearly  on  the  same  line,  though  the  fore- 
head is  slightly  prominent.  The  palms  of  the  hands  and  soles  of 
the  feet  are  very  short,  and  the  whole  body  is  covered  with  long, 
shining,  straight  black  hair,  which  is  by  no  means  harsh  to  the 
touch.  The  sides  of  the  face  are  marked  with  fawn  color,  and  a 
small  spot  of  the  same  exists  in  some  individuals  in  front  of  the 


QUADRUPEDS. 


45 


eye ; others  have  the  muzzle  of  a clear  light  yellow,  with  a white 
line  commencing  on  the  root  of  the  nose  and  reaching  to  each  side 
of  the  angle  of  the  mouth.  This  continues  over  the  cheek  to  a 
large  white  space,  mixed  with  a slight  fawn  color,  covering  the 
whole  of  the  throat,  whence  a narrow  line  descends  upon  the 
breast. 


THE  SQUIRREL. 

Squirrels. — There  are  several  varieties ^)f  Squirrels. 

The  Fox  Squirrel  is  common  in  the  southern  States,  and  is  not 
troublesome. 

The  Cat  Squirrel  is  found  in  great  abundance  throughout  the 
oak  and  chesnut  forests  of  this  country,  and  is  not  to  any  extent  a 
depredator. 

The  Black  Squirrel  is  very  common,  and  at  times  very  destruc- 
tive in  the  Indian  corn  fields.  The  black  squirrel,  in  summer,  is 
rather  gray  on  the  back  and  sides,  though  the  whole  color  of  the 
body  is  black,  with  some  gray  interspersed,  and  of  a reddish 
brown  on  the  under  parts.  In  winter  the  color  is  a pure  black  all 
over  the  body. 

The  Common  Gray  Squirrel. — This  species,  still  exceedingly 


40 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


common  throughout  the  United  States,  was  once  so  excessively 
multiplied  as  to  be  a scourge  to  the  inhabitants,  not  only  consum- 
ing their  grain,  but  exhausting  the  public  treasury  by  the  amount 
of  premiums  given  for  their  destruction. 

The  gray  squirrel  prefers  the  oak,  hickory  and  chesnut  woods, 
where  it  finds  a copious  supply  of  nuts  .and  mast,  of  which  it  pro- 
vides large  hoards  for  the  winter.  Their  nests  are  placed  chiefly 
in  tall  oak  trees  at  the  forks  of  the  branches  ; these  nests  are  very 
comfortable,  being  thickly  covered  and  lined  with  dried  leaves. 
During  cold  weather  the  squirrels  seldom  leave  these  snug  re- 
treats, except  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  their  store-houses,  and 
obtaining  a supply  of  provisions.  It  has  been  observed  that  the 
approach  of  uncommonly  cold  weather  is  foretold  when  these 
squirrels  are  seen  out  in  unusual  numbers,  gathering  a larger  stock 
of  provisions,  lest  their  magazines  should  fail.  This,  however,  is 
not  an  infallible  sign,  at  least  in  vicinities  where  many  hogs  are  al- 
lowed to  roam  at  large,  as  these  keen-nosed  brutes  are  very  expert 
at  discovering  the  winter  hoards  of  the  squirrel,  which  they  imme- 
diately appropriate  to  their  own  use. 

If  the  gray  squirrels  confined  themselves  to  the  diet  afforded  by 
the  forest  trees,  the  farmers  would  profit  considerably  thereby. 
But,  having  once  tasted  the  sweetness  of  Indian  corn  and  other 
cultivated  grains,  they  leave  acorns  and  such  coarse  fare  to  the 
hogs,  while  they  invade  the  corn  fields,  and  carry  off  and  destroy 
a very  large  quantity.  This  species  is  remarkable  among  all  our 
squirrels  for  its  beauty  and  activity. 

The  gray  squirrel  varies  considerably  in  color,  but  is  most  com- 
monly of  a fine  bluish  gray,  mingled  with  a slight  golden  hue. 
This  golden  color  is  espe^ally  obvious  on  the  head,  along  the  sides, 
where  the  white  hair  of  the  belly  approaches  the  gray  of  the  sides, 
and  on  the  anterior  part  of  the  fore  and  superior  part  of  the  hind 
feet,  where  it  is  very  rich  and  deep.  This  mark  on  the  hind  feet 
is  very  permanent,  and  evident  even  in  those  varieties  which  differ 
most  from  the  common  color.  There  is  one  specimen  in  the  Phi- 
ladelphia Museum  of  a light  brownish  red  on  all  the  superior  parts 
of  the  body. 

The  Common  Red  Squirrel,  or  Hudson’s  Bay  Squirrel  of 
Naturalists. — This  beautiful  species  is  very  common  in  the  north- 
ern and  western  parts  of  this  country,  and,  where  seldom  dis- 
turbed, are  so  fearless  as  to  allow  themselves  to  be  approached 
almost  within  reach. 


QUADRUPEDS. 


47 


The  com  re  ->n  red  squirrel  is,  perhaps,  more  remarkable  for  its 
neatness  and  beauty  than  any  of  its  kindred  species,  which,  in 
habits  and  manners,  it  closely  resembles.  It  is  between  seven  and 
eight  inches  long,  having  a tail  five  inches  in  length.  Its  whiskers 
are  very  long  and  black ; the  superior  parts  of  the  body  are  of  a 
reddish  brown  color,  varying  in  intensity,  and  shaded  with  black. 
On  the  inferior  parts  the  general  color  is  a tarnished  or  yellowish 
white ; the  under  part  of  the  head  and  front  of  the  fore  limbs  are 
reddish  brown,  like  the  back ; the  insides  of  the  thighs  are 
colored  like  the  belly ; on  each  flank  there  is  a distinctly  marked 
black  line,  separating  the  colors  of  the  back  and  belly.  The  tail  is 
of  a reddish  brown  color,  and  is  very  beautiful. 

The  red  squirrel  is  a great  pest  in  orchards.  He  will  frequently 
destroy  a hundred  pears  in  a day  to  get  the  seeds,  which  alone 
he  eats. 

Tire  Ground  Squirrel  (commonfy  called  the  Chipmunk, 
Haeky  or  Hackee,  Ground,  or  Striped  Squirrel). — Few  persons 
have  traveled  without  becoming  acquainted  with  this  pretty  ani- 
mal, which,  though  very  different  in  its  general  appearance  from 
its  kindred  tenanting  the  lofty  forest-trees,  still  approaches  to  them 
so  closely  in  personal  beauty  and  activity,  as  always  to  command 
the  attention  of  the  most  incidental  observer. 

This  squirrel  is  most  generally  seen  scudding  along  the  lower 
rails  of  the  common  zig-zag  or  “ Virginia”  fences,  which  afford 
him  at  once  a pleasant  and  secure  path,  as  in  a few  turns  he  finds 
a safe  hiding-place  behind  the  projecting  angles,  or  enters  his  bur- 
row undiscovered.  When  no  fence  is  near,  or  his  retreat  is  cut  oft’, 
after  having  been  out  in  search  of  food,  he  becomes  exceedingly 
alarmed,  and  runs  up  the  nearest  tree,  uttering  a very  shrill  cry  or 
whistle,  indicative  of  his  distress,  and  it  is  in  this  situation  that  he 
is  most  frequently  made  captive  by  his  persecuting  enemies,  the 
mischievous  school-boys. 

The  ground  squirrel  makes  his  burrow  generally  near  the  roots 
of  trees,  along  the  course  of  fences  and  old  walls,  or  in  banks  ad- 
jacent to  forests,  whence  he  obtains  his  principal  supplies  of  food. 
The  burrows  frequently  extend  to  very  considerable  distances, 
having  several  galleries  or  lateral  excavations,  in  which  provisions 
are  stored  for  winter  use.  The  burrow  has  always  two  openings, 
which  are  usually  far  distant  from  each  other  ; it  very  rarely  hap- 
pens that  the  animal  is  dug  out,  unless  it  be  accidentally  during 
the  winter  season. 


48 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


The  ground  squirrel  is  rather  more  than  five  inches  in  length, 
from  the  nose  to  the  root  of  the  tail ; the  last  is  about  two  inches 
and  a half  long.  The  general  color  of  the  head  and  upper  parts 
of  the  body  is  reddish  brown,  all  the  hairs  on  these  parts  being 
gray  at  base.  The  eyelids  are  whitish,  and  from  the  external 
angle  of  each  eye  a black  line  runs  towards  the  ear,  while  on  each 
cheek  there  is  a reddish  brown  line.  The  short  rounded  ears  are 
covered  with  fine  hairs,  which  are  on  the  outside  of  a reddish 
brown  color,  and  within  of  a whitish  gray.  The  upper  part  of  the 
neck,  shoulders,  and  base  of  the  hair  on  the  back,  are  of  a gray 
brown,  mingled  with  whitish. 

On  the  back  there  are  five  longitudinal  black  bands,  which  are 
at  their  posterior  parts  bordered  slightly  with  red.  The  middle 
one  begins  at  the  back  of  the  head,  the  two  lateral  ones  on  the 
shoulders ; they  all  terminate  at  the  rump,  whose  color  is  reddish. 
On  each  side  two  white  separate  the  lateral  black  bands.  The 
lower  part  of  the  flanks  and  sides  of  the  neck  are  of  a paler 
red  ; the  exterior  of  the  fore  feet  is  of  a grayish  yellow  ; the  thighs 
and  hind  feet  are  red  above.  The  upper  lip,  the  chin,  throat, 
oelly,  and  internal  face  of  the  limbs  are  of  a dirty  brown.  The 
tail  is  reddish  at  its  base,  blackish  below,  and  has  an  edging  of 
black. 

The  ground  squirrel  is  sadly  injurious  to  corn  or  grain  fields, 
just  planted  or  sown,  when  the  fields  are  near  woods.  The  squir- 
rel digs  up  the  grain,  and  renders  planting  or  sowing  again  ne- 
cessary. 

The  gun  is  the  main  means  for  the  destruction  of  the  various 
squirrels. 

RATS,  MICE,  AND  THEIR  KIND. 

We  have  hitherto  been  discussing  subjects,  presenting  rather  a 
doubtful  aspect,  as  affording  the  possibility  of  the  query  arising  as 
to  the  positive  or  actual  title  which  they  hold  to  rank  amongst  the 
“Pests”  of  “the  Farm.”  The  present  article  is  designed  to  em- 
brace an  inquiry  into  the  character  of  a class  of  animals  relative  to 
which  no  possible  mistake  can  exist, — a class  of  animals  whose  dep- 
redations are  universally  felt — animals  noxious  to  all,  and  possessed 
of  no  single  redeeming  quality  which  can  elicit  the  defence  of  any 
one  advocate.  As  to  extermination  meaning  extirpation , that  is  an 
end  that,  even  with  the  greatest  assiduity  on  the  part  of  man,  it 
would  be  next  to  hopeless  to  expect  to  arrive  at ; none  will  question 


QUADRUPEDS. 


49 


the  right  which  man,  as  the  heaven-appointed  lord  of  the  creation, 
possesses  to  protect  his  property  from  the  inroads  of  the  invaders, 
and  to  check,  by  every  means  within  his  power,  the  extension  of  any 
race  of  animals,  who,  if  they  are  to  live,  must  live  to  his  detriment, 
upon  the  fruit  of  his  labor.  Of  all  four-footed  vermin,  perhaps, 
rats  and  mice,  with  their  varieties,  are  the  greatest  foes  to  the  agri- 
culturist, nay,  to  man  generally.  It  is,  in  short,  but  a choice  be- 
tween their  extermination  and  his ; for  if  suffered  to  increase  in 
numbers,  unchecked,  the  time  would  not  be  far  distant  when  the 
entire  globe  would  but  suffice  to  furnish  food  for  their  rapacious 
appetites,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  human  race,  created  by  our  Divine 
Maker  himself  its  legitimate  sovereign  and  lord.  Sentimental 
theorists  need  not  fear  the  extinction  of  this  troublesome  tribe  ; let 
us  proceed  with  all  our  vigor — let  us  call  into  exercise  every  re 
source  of  human  cunning,  and  we  shall  still  find  ourselves,  to  a 
great  extent,  baffled  by  these  diminutive  marauders,  who,  despite 
of  all  our  efforts,  continue  to  thrive,  to  multiply,  to  grow  fat  upon 
the  products  of  our  toil.  The  utmost  that  we  can  effect  is  to  deci- 
mate their  ranks  ; we  may  diminish  their  numbers,  but  extirpate 
them — never  ! I am  far  from  blaming  the  poor  creatures  for  their 
predatory  habits.  I am  fully  aware,  that  in  following  them,  they 
do  but  follow  certain  instincts  implanted  for  wise  purposes  in  their 
natures,  and  which,  when  the  earth  was  yet  scantily  peopled,  and 
artificial  culture  comparatively  unknown,  must  have  conduced 
greatly  to  utility.  So  it  was  at  creation — so  it  has  been.  But 
many  tribes  of  animals  were  then  created  by  the  Almighty  with  a 
view  to  so  many  special  purposes.  According  as  man  advances  in 
knowledge  and  consequent  improvement,  so  does  the  necessity  for 
the  intervention  of  brutal  aid  decrease,  until  at  length  what  was  at 
first  a blessing,  will  if  suffered  to  remain,  become  a pest.  So  it  was 
with  the  Rat.  In  earlier  ages,  when  man  had  no  settled  habita- 
tion, but  roved  to  and  fro  upon  the  earth,  killing,  eating,  and  wast- 
ing, the  aid  of  such  animals,  as  scavengers , was  most  necessary,  in 
order  to  maintain  the  atmosphere  in  such  a pure  and  healthful  con- 
dition as  was  necessary  for  his  support.  As  cultivation  of  the  soil 
commenced  and  progressed,  and  as  the  nomadic  habits  to  which  I 
allude  ceased,  so  did  the  necessity  cease  for  these  animals  to  exist 
in  their  wonted  numbers.  We  may,  therefore,  legitimately  con- 
clude, I think,  that  when  it  becomes,  as  it  has  become,  a positive 
battle  between  the  rats  and  man  for  the  produce  of  the  ground,  and 
when  that  produce  owes  its  existence  to  the  labor  of  the  latter,  that 
3 


50 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


ho  possesses  every  legitimate  right  to  exterminate,  if  he  can,  his 
vermin  foes,  root  and  branch,  and  to  cry,  with  the  clearest  of  con- 
sciences,  “ War — war  to  the — ” trap  ! 

There  are  three  descriptions  of  Rat  generally  known  as  a nui- 
sance to  the  farmer  or  merchant : the  common  Brown  or  Norway 
Rat,  the  indigenous  Black  Rat,  and  the  Water  Rat.  The  last  men- 
tioned is  seldom  a true  rat ; for  what  is  usually  known  as  Water  Hat 
is  not  a rat  at  all,  but  an  animal  of  an  allied  genus,  properly  to  be 
called  Vole.  The  common  Brown  Rat  sometimes  also  presents  Al- 
bino characters,  that  is  to  say,  it  is  occasionally  to  be  found  of  a 
white  color,  with  red  eyes.  It  is  not  my  intention,  neither  would 
it  suit  the  purpose  of  the  present  work,  to  enter  at  any  length  into 
the  natural  history  of  these  animals ; a brief  description  will  there- 
fore suffice. 


THE  COMMON  BROWN  RAT. 


The  most  formidable  is  the  common  Brown  Rat  ( mus  decunxmm ), 
an  animal  for  whose  importation  we  are  indebted  to  the  Norwegians, 
and  which  has  now  almost  wholly  extirpated  our  indigenous  va- 
riety, the  Black  Rat  (mus  rattus).  These  animals  require  no  de- 
scription ; — very  little  to  our  satisfaction,  we  are  too  well  acquainted 
with  their  appearance.  The  Black  Rat  is  smaller  than  the  now 
common  variety  ; its  color  is  a slaty  blue,  sometimes  a jet  black, 
and  its  tail  is  longer  and  more  scaly  than  that  of  its  Norwegian 
conqueror.  The  White  Rat  is  rare,  and  is  merely  an  accidental 
variety  of  the  Brown.  These  animals  are  all  equally  mischievous, 
and  resemble  each  other  in  their  habits,  so  that  the  same  mode  of 
destruction  will  answer  for  all.  Various  plans  for  the  destruction 
of  rats  have  been  suggested,  but  I confess  that  I am  not  & little 
surprised  that  the  adoption  of  some  effectual  means  should  be  so 
little  general  as  it  is ; for  I am  prepared  to  assert  that  were  all  who 


QUADRUPEDS. 


51 


suffer  from  the  ravages  of  these  pests  to  apply  themselves  energeti- 
cally to  the  task  of  getting  rid  of  them,  they  would — not,  certainly, 
be  wholly  exterminated,  but  would  become  so  reduced  in  numbers 
as  to  be  no  longer  formidable — cease,  in  short,  to  occupy  a position 
among  the  “ Pests  of  the  Farm.” 

There  are  two  methods  by  which  rats  can  be  effectually  destroyed 
— traps  and  poison.  Some  writers  have  recommended  the 
former ; others  have  been  in  favor  of  the  latter.  My  own  experi- 
ence induces  me  to  state,  that  neither  is  to  be  adopted  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  the  other,  both  being  equally  good  under  certain  circum- 
stances ; it  must,  however,  be  admitted,  that  trapping  is  only  suited 
to  instances  where  the  vermin  are  few  in  number ; where  they  swarm, 
wholesale  measures  must  be  resorted  to,  and  the  trapping  of  indi- 
viduals would  be  idle  and  useless.  When  traps  are  to  be  em- 
ployed a small  steel  spring-trap,  similar  to  that  which  I have  de- 
scribed when  treating  of  the  wild  cat,  &c.,  but  of  course  much 
smaller,  is  that  to  be  preferred.  It  must  be  washed  after  each  cap- 
ture, and  the  person  who  sets  it  should  disguise  the  natural  odor 

of  his  person,  by  using  a little 
malt,  impregnated  slightly 
with  a mixture  of  equal  parts 
of  the  oils  of  rhodium  and 
caraway.  The  proportions  are 
1 part  of  the  mixed  oils  to 
5,000  parts  of  malt.  A por- 
tion of  this  should  be  rubbed 
between  the  hands  at  each 
manipulation  ; this  is  one  of 
the  great  secrets  of  profession- 
al rat-catchers.  The  above  is  one  of  the  most  attractive  baits  for 

rats  that  can  be  used,  and  may 
be  either  employed  in  baiting 
traps,  or  in  acting  as  a vehicle  for 
using  poison.  There  is  another 
very  good  description  of  trap, 
already  described,  open  at  both 
ends,  the  doors  closing  on  the 
J rats  running  upon  a bridge  in  the 
middle.  We  have  endeavored 
to  explain  the  construction  of  this 
accompanying  wood-cuts,  the  two  first  of 


62 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


which  represent  the  parts  of 
the  trap  in  a detached  state — 
the  third  as  it  appears  when  set. 

There  is  also  a very  sim- 
ple description  of  trap,  which 
any  rustic  can  make,  and 
which,  in  the  absence  of  bet- 
ter, may  be  used  with  effect : 
it  consists  of  a long  box,  open 
at  one  end,  having  the  sides 
grooved  to  admit  a sliding 
door.  The  better  to  enable  the  reader  to  understand  the  construc- 
tion of  this  trap,  we  subjoin  the  accompanying  wood-cut : 

A — Represents  the  en- 

trance. 

B — An  upright , supporting 
a horizontal  beam,  attached  at 
C to  a string  fastened  to  a bit 
of  meat,  which,  passing  between 
the  two  wires  represented  in 
the  wood-cut,  is  thus  held  in 
that  position. 

D — Is  the  door,  formed  of 
heavy  material,  and  running 
freely  in  grooves. 

When  the  horizontal  beam 
is  drawn  downwards,  the  bit  of  meat  placed  between  the  wires  at 
C,  the  door  D rises,  and  the  trap  is  set.  The  rat,  entering  at  D, 
bites  the  meat  at  C ; the  weight  of  the  door,  no  longer  restrained, 
brings  it  suddenly  down,  and  the  animal  is  trapped.  There  can- 
not be  a better  trap  than  this,  when  the  nuisance  is  confined  to  a 
few  solitary  rats  ; but,  as  it  only  catches  one  at  a time,  it  is  com- 
paratively useless  where  these  pests  exist  in  any  number  : the  fact 
is,  that  poison  is  then  the  only  method  to  be  relied  on.  There  are 
many  objections  to  the  use  of  poison  ; amongst  others,  the  obvious 
one  of  the  danger  of  poultry,  dogs,  or  other  animals,  eating  the 
fatal  mess,  and  falling  victims  to  their  error.  To  obviate  this  and 
other  objections,  I shall  show  how  the  desired  end  can  be  attained 
by  means  of  a substance  fatal  to  the  rats  alone — the  basis  of  that 
substance  is  phosphorus. 

“ The  following  recipe  for  the  destruction  of  rats  has  been  com- 


QUADRUPEDS. 


53 


municated  by  Dr.  Ure  to  the  Council  of  the  English  Agricultural 
Society,  and  is  highly  recommended  as  the  best  known  means  of 
getting  rid  of  these  most  obnoxious  and  destructive  vermin.  It 
has  been  tried  by  several  intelligent  persons,  and  found  perfectly 
effectual.  Melt  hog’s  lard  in  a bottle  plunged  in  water,  heated  to 
about  150  degrees  of  Fahrenheit;  introduce  into  it  half  an  ounce 
of  phosphorus  for  every  pound  of  lard  ; then  add  a pint  of  proof- 
spirit  or  whiskey ; cork  the  bottle  firmly  after  its  contents  have 
been  heated  to  150  degrees,  taking  it  at  the  same  time  out  of  the 
water,  and  agitate  smartly  till  the  phosphorus  becomes  uniformly 
diffused,  forming  a milky-looking  liquid.  This  liquid,  being  cooled, 
will  afford  a white  compound  of  phosphorus  and  lard,  from  which 
the  spirit  spontaneously  separates,  and  may  be  poured  off  to  be 
used  again,  for  none  of  it  enters  into  the  combination,  but  it  merely 
serves  to  comminute  the  phosphorus,  and  diffuse  it  in  very  fine 
particles  through  the  lard.  This  compound,  on  being  warmed 
very  gently,  may  be  poured  out  into  a mixture  of  wheat  flour  and 
sugar  incorporated  therewith,  and  then  flavored  with  oil  of  rhodium, 
or  not,  at  pleasure.  The  flavor  may  be  varied  with  oil  of  aniseed, 
<fcc.  This  dough,  being  made  into  pellets,  is  to  be  laid  in  rat- 
holes.  By  its  luminousness  in  the  dark,  it  attracts  their  notice, 
and  being  agreeable  to  their  palates  and  noses,  it  is  readily  eaten, 
and  proves  certainly  fatal.  They  soon  are  seen  issuing  from  their 
lurking-places  to  seek  for  water  to  quench  their  burning  thirst  and 
bowels,  and  they  commonly  die  near  the  water.  They  continue  to 
eat  it  as  long  as  it  is  offered  to  them,  without  being  deterred  by 
the  fate  of  their  fellows,  as  is  known  to  be  the  case  with  arsenical 
doses.  It  may  be  an  easy  guide  for  those  who  are  desirous  of  fol- 
lowing Dr.  Ure’s  prescription,  and  may  not  have  a thermometer  at 
hand  to  know  that  a temperature  of  150  degrees  of  Fahrenheit  is 
equivalent  to  a degree  of  heat  midway  between  that  at  which 
white  of  egg  coagulates,  and  white  wax  melts.” 

I have  little  to  offer  in  addition,  except  to  suggest  that  the  ve- 
hicle with  which  the  compound  of  lard  and  phosphorus  is  to  be 
used  may  be  fresh  malt , instead  of  a mixture  of  sugar  and  wheaten 
flour ; and  I would  also  suggest  the  following  preparation  to  be 
added,  as  an  allurement,  to  induce  the  rats  to  eat  freely  : 

Oil  of  Rhodium  . . . . 1 scruple. 

Oil  of  Caraway  . . . . 1 drachm. 

Oil  Lavender  . . . . 5 drops. 

Oil  of  Aniseed  . . . . 10  drops. 

Tincture  of  Musk  . . . . 2 drops. 


54 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


This  is  to  be  added  to  the  compost,  in  the  proportion  of  about 
10  drops  to  the  ounce.  If  kept  in  a well-stopped  bottle,  and  a bit 
of  bladder  tied  over  the  stopper,  it  will  retain  its  strength  for  a 
length  of  time.  The  compound  of  phosphorus  and  lard  was 
known  to  professional  rat-catchers  before  Dr.  Ure  communicated 
the  above  formula  to  the  Agricultural  Society.  A few  applications 
will  effect  the  clearance  of  the  entire  premises,  and  the  object  then 
to  be  desired  is  to  prevent  their  return.  In  the  “ Farmer’s  Maga- 
zine,” vol.  viii.,  p.  452,  the  following  receipt  is  given  for  this  impor- 
tant purpose  : — “ Take  one  pound  of  nitre,  and  one  pound  of  alum ; 
dissolve  them  together  in  two  quarts  of  spring  water ; get  about  a 
bushel  of  bran,  and  make  a mash  thereof,  putting  in  two  pints  of 
the  above  liquid,  and  mixing  all  together.  When  you  build  your 
stacks,  every  second  course,  take  a handful  or  two  of  the  mash, 
and  throw  upon  them  till  they  come  to  the  easing.  I have  never 
seen  this  tried,  but  an  agricultural  friend  states  he  has  tried  it,  and 
found  it  so  successful  that  he  never  has  a stack  put  up  in  any  other 
manner. 

Rats  may  be  destroyed  in  great  numbers  in  a bam,  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner  ‘.—Before  all  the  grain  is  removed,  get  some  com- 
mon iron  chafing-dishes,  which  fill  with  lighted  charcoal,  upon  this 
strew  a quantity  of  broken  stick  brimstone,  quit  the  barn  as  rapidly 
as  possible,  holding  your  breath  the  while,  close  fast  the  door,  and 
leave  the  building  shut  for  the  next  two  days.  On  re-entering  the 
barn,  you  will  then  find  quantities  of  rats  lying  dead  round  the 
chafing-dishes.  Some  may  have  been  stifled  in  their  holes,  and 
their  bodies  might,  if  no  precautions  were  taken  to  prevent  it, 
create  for  some  time  an  unpleasant  smell ; to  prevent  this,  you 
have  only  to  stop  up  all  the  holes  with  mortar.  Perform  this 
operation  again  the  following  harvest,  just  previous  to  storing,  and 
you  will  no  longer  have  any  reason  to  complain  of  annoyance  from 
the  rats.  As  to  the  grain  in  stacks,  it  will  be  impossible  for  rats  to 
injure  them,  if  they  be  built  upon  proper  staddles  or  platforms  of 
stone  or  iron — the  former  should  be  built  with  an  overhanging 
ledge,  which  will  prevent  vermin  from  ascending — this  is  unneces- 
sary in  the  case  of  the  latter,  the  iron  legs  presenting  a sufficient 
obstacle  to  their  ascent. 

The  water-rat,  or  more  properly,  water -vole,  is  somewhat  larger 
than  the  common  rat,  has  a short  tail,  and  small  round  ears.  Tnis 
animal  rarely  exists  in  numbers  sufficient  to  do  any  very  great 
amount  of  mischief;  a ferret  and  a brace  of  terriers  will,  at  all 


QUADRUPEDS. 


56 


events,  effectually  clear  a stream  of  them  in  a very  short  time, 
and  the  chase  will  afford  exciting  amusement  of  a summer  evening 

I shall  conclude  the  subject  of  the  destruction  of  rats  with  an 
amusing  account  of  a novel,  but  apparently,  under  the  circum- 
stances, a most  effective  mode  of  accomplishing  this  object. 

BARRACK  FOR  RATS. 

An  extensive  bacon-merchant  in  Limerick,  who  kills  between 
forty  and  fifty  thousand  pigs  in  a season,  has  adopted  the  following 
successful  method  to  destroy  the  rats  which  abound  on  his  pre- 
mises, where  the  abundance  of  food  will  always  occasion  a vast  col- 
lection of  these  troublesome  and  destructive  animals.  He  has 
erected  a quadrangular  stone  building,  eleven  feet  long,  and  seven 
feet  wide,  with  a wall  three  feet  high,  having  flags  laid  flat  upon 
the  top,  but  projecting  a little  over  the  inside  of  the  wall.  All 
round  the  wall  inside,  at  the  base,  are  numerous  holes,  like  pigeon 
holes,  which  do  not  go  quite  through,  except  a few  to  allow  a free 
passage  to  the  little  animals.  Outside  of  the  barrack  is  a plentiful 
supply  of  water  and  food,  such  as  bones  and  useless  offal.  The 
interior  of  the  walls  is  occupied  by  boards,  lumber,  and  straw — 
just  such  concealment  as  these  animals  are  known  to  prefer,  and 
the  whole  is  covered  by  a moveable  wooden  roof.  When  it  is 
judged  proper  to  destroy  them,  the  passages  are  stopped  at  the 
outside,  the  roof  is  lifted  off,  and  the  boards  are  taken  out.  The 
frightened  animals  run  up  the  wall,  but  their  escape  is  impossible, 
for  they  strike  against  the  projecting  flags  and  fall  back  again. 
They  then  run  into  the  small  holes  below,  but  these  are  only  just 
large  enough  to  admit  their  bodies,  whilst  the  tails  remain  sticking 
out,  a secure  prize  to  the  men  who  go  in  over  the  wall ; and  by 
this  unlucky  appendage  they  suddei  ly  drag  them  out,  and  fling 
them  to  a posjge  of  anxious  dogs  outside  of  the  fortress,  or  into  a 
barrel  of  water,  where  they  are  soon  destroyed.  As  there  are  not 
holes  enough  in  the  wall  inside,  the  noise  and  uproar  soon  frighten 
another  division  of  rats  into  the  vacated  openings,  and  these  being 
treated  in  the  same  unceremonious  manner,  the  whole  garrison  is 
thus  speedily  destroyed.  As  many  as  seven  or  eight  hundred 
have  been  killed  in  one  clearing.  Rats  being  fond  of  straw,  they 
also  become  very  numerous  on  the  lofts  where  this  article  is  kept, 
to  be  used  for  singing  bacon,  and  they  cut  it  into  short  pieces  with 
their  teeth,  which  renders  it  useless  for  this  purpose.  The  pro- 


66 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


prietor  tried  the  effect  of  putting  a pet  fox  to  mount  guard  c n the 
lofts,  and  it  was  found  that  he  killed  such  quantities  of  the  rats, 
that  three  or  four  were  procured  to  garrison  the  place  instead  of 
one. 


Mice. — Of  this  tribe  there  are  several  varieties,  which  some  re- 


THE  JUMPING  FIELD  MOUSE. 


gard  as  distinct  species,  while  others  assert  the  contrary.  I have 
neither  space  nor  inclination  to  enter  into  controversy,  and  shall 
confine  myself  to  facts.  The  common  house-mouse,  with  which  all 
are  familiar,  is  the  enemy  most  to  be  dreaded  in-doors,  in  the  barn, 
and  in  the  corn-stack.  Wherever  there  are  rats,  mice  will  be  few 
in  number,  the  former  preying  upon  the  latter.  In  the  field  the 
farmer  has  both  the  house-mouse,  and  two  descriptions  of  field- 
mice,  or  voles  (arvicola)  to  contend  with,  a long  and  a short-tailed. 
These  are  the  principal,  and  include  several  sub-varieties.  All  holes 
in  a dwelling-house  should  be  stopped  with  lime  and  pounded 
glass.  The  fumigating  system  will  exterminate  them  from  the 
barn,  and  if  the  stacks  be  built  as  I have  directed,  the  corn  there 
is  safe  from  their  attacks.  It  is  in  the  field  that  the  battle  has  to 
be  fought — it  is  there  that  mice  are  really  formidable,  and  require 
ingenuity  to  baffle  and  destroy  them.  Prison  sown  in  the  drills 
will,  of  course,  destroy  mice,  but  poultry  and  birds  will  possibly 
suffer  with  them.  Our  great  object,  therefore,  must  be  to  discover 
some  substance  fatal  to  them,  and  innoxious  to  larger  animals. 


QUADRUPEDS. 


57 


The  small  size,  and  delicate  constitution  of  the  mouse,  renders  this 
no  very  difficult  matter ; and  if  every  farmer  will  follow  my  ad- 
vice, his  fields  will  be  soon  free.  In  the  first  instance,  lest  farmers 
should  suppose  that  I exaggerate  the  havoc  which  these  animals 
perpetrate,  much  of  it  possibly  without  the  knowledge  of  the  pro- 
prietor of  the  soil,  who  vainly  speculates  mentally  in  conjectures  as 
to  the  cause  of  his  grain-crop  having  proved  so  light,  I shall  pre- 
sent them  with  the  following  statement,  on  the  authority  of  Mr. 
Maxwell,  author  of  “ Wild  Sports  of  the  West,”  who,  if  I mistake 
not,  quotes  from  Mr.  Jesse. — “ An  extraordinary  instance  of  the 
rapid  increase  of  mice,  and  of  the  injury  they  sometimes  do,  oc- 
curred a few  years  ago  in  the  new  plantations  made,  by  order  of 
the  crown,  in  Dean  Forest,  Gloucestershire,  and  in  the  New  Forest, 
Hampshire.  Soon  after  the  formation  of  these  plantations,  a sud- 
den and  rapid  increase  of  mice  took  place  in  them,  which  threat- 
ened destruction  to  the  whole  of  the  young  plants.  Vast  numbers 
of  these  were  killed — the  mice  having  eaten  through  the  roots  of 
five-year  old  oaks  and  chesnuts,  generally  just  below  the  surface  of 
the  ground.  Hollies,  also,  which  were  five  and  six  feet  high,  were 
barked  round  the  bottom ; and  in  some  instances  the  mice  had 
crawled  up  the  tree,  and  were  seen  feeding  on  the  bark  of  the  up- 
per branches. 

“ The  following  account  will  show  the  numbers  of  mice  caught 
in  the  different  enclosures  in  Dean  Forest,  in  three  months,  from 
September  to  January,  with  the  number  of  acres,  and  the  propor- 
tion between  the  long  and  the  short-tailed  mice : — 


Acres. 

Short-tailed 

Mice. 

Long-tailed. 

Mice. 

Total. 

Haywood  enclosure, 

418 

12,850 

8 

12,858 

Oily  Hill  do. 

41 

1,161 

11 

1,172 

Crabtree  Hill  do. 

372 

7,851 

7,851 

Park  Hill  do. 

113 

2,665 

2,665 

Shut  Castle  do. 

163 

484 

33 

517 

Sallow  Valley  do. 

386 

1,361 

1,361 

Barnhill  do. 

50 

70 

70 

Birchwood  do. 

50 

3 

3 

Whitemead  park  do. 

100 

1.559 

15 

1,574 

Total  Acres,  1,693  Total  Mice,  28,071” 

Having  now  satisfied  you  of  the  reality  of  this  nuisance,  let  us 
consider  some  of  the  modes  in  which  it  may  be  removed. 

In  “ British  Husbandry,”  vol.  ii.,  p.  552,  it  is  stated  that  the  tops 
of  last  year’s  shoots  of  furze,  chopped  small,  and  sown  with  the 

3* 


58 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


corn,  will  prevent  their  depreciations ; and  it  is  added,  in  a note, 
that  their  ravages  had  run  to  such  a height,  in  some  parts  of 
France,  as  to  have  ruined  the  farmers  ! The  mode  adopted  in  that 
country  for  their  destruction  is  also  given  : — “ At  Angerville,  whole 
farms  have  been  given  up  to  the  proprietors,  in  consequence  of 
their  continued  devastation ; and  the  only  method  known  of 
checking  them  is  to  defer  the  sowing  any  grain  until  spring,  which 
precaution  occasions  them  to  forsake  the  fields,  as  it  deprives  them 
of  the  means  of  winter  subsistence.”  The  method  adopted  in  the 
Forest  of  Dean,  the  ravages  committed  in  which  we  have  described 
above,  and  which  proved  efficacious  to  the  fullest  extent,  after  all 
others  had  failed,  consisted  in  boring  holes  in  the  ground,  to  the 
depth  of  twenty  inches,  wider  at  the  bottom  than  at  top,  in  which 
was  dropped  some  favorite  food.  The  mice  willingly  entered,  and 
from  the  form  of  the  hole,  being  prevented  from  getting  out  again, 
were  taken  in  such  numbers  as  speedily  rid  the  ground  of  them. 
One  of  the  best  pieces  of  advice  on  this  subject  is  the  following  : — 
“ Let  the  farmer  first  consider  the  nature  and  quality  of  his  ground, 
and  which  fields  are,  from  the  nature  of  their  soil,  most  likely  to 
harbor  the  intruders,  also  in  what  places  they  are  most  mischievous. 
Let  him  never  sow  these  under  furrow , i.  e.,  until  the  intruders 
have  been  expelled ; for  that  method  of  cropping  deprives  him  of 
the  power  of  combating  his  enemies.  They  work  under  ground, 
as  it  were,  and  will  never  come  in  the  way  of  his  poison.  When 
Ijliese  fields  have  been  sown  otherwise,  and  harrowed  over,  the  mice 
must  come  upon  the  surface , and  dig  down  for  the  corn,  and  they 
will  then  certainly  meet  with  anything  he  lays  on  the  ground  for 
them.”  So  far,  so  good.  The  author  proceeds  to  point  out  the 
description  of  poison  to  be  employed.  This  is,  “ a peck  of  barley 
meal,  a pound  of  powder  of  white  hellebore  root,  and  four  ounces 
of  powder  of  staves-acre,  and  when  these  are  all  mixed  together 
by  sifting  through  a coarse  hair-sieve,  add  half  a pound  of  honey, 
and  as  much  milk  as  will  work  the  whole  into  a paste.  Let  this 
be  broken  in  pieces,  and  scattered  over  the  field  at  the  time  when 
the  mice  are  known  to  be  coming.  They  will  eat  it  greedily,  and 
it  is  certain  death  to  them.  There  is  nothing  in  any  of  the  ingre- 
dients disagreeable  to  the  taste  when  thus  mixed ; and  every  mor- 
sel of  it  will  be  devoured.  The  mice  will  be  kept  from  digging 
after  the  corn,  and,  at  the  same  time,  will  be  killed  by  the  ingre- 
dients.” I have  heard  farmers  who  had  tried  the  above,  speak 
favorably  of  it.  But  the  most  successful  remedy  of  which  I have 


QUADRUPEDS. 


69 


yet  heard  is  dropping  into  the  holes,  and  on  different  portions  of  the 
field,  pellets  of  the  phosphoric  compound  described  when  treating 
of  the  rat.  A little  trouble  of  this  kind,  taken  in  the  heat  of  sum- 
mer, when  the  holes  can  most  easily  be  seen,  will  soon  greatly 
diminish  the  number  of  the  mice,  if  not  wholly  extirpate  them. 

Before  leaving  this  section,  I conceive  it  advisable  to  say  a few 
words  of  two  valuable  aids  n-  the  destruction  of  many  of  the  pests 
which  I have  enumerated.  1 think  that  a few  words  of  advice  as 
to  dogs  and  ferrets  may  not  be  amiss ; for,  after  all,  the  worst  of 
these  four-footed  plagues  is  undeniably  the  rat.  There  are  three 
distinct  sorts  of  terrier — the  common  Scotch,  the  Skye,  and  the 
English.  The  Scotch  is  a strong,  wire-haired  dog,  standing  mode- 
rately high  oil  his  legs,  with  a thick  head  and  a broad  muzzle ; the 
Skye  is  very  short  on  the  legs,  long  in  the  back,  small  head,  and 
narrow-muzzled ; his  hair  is  also  stiff  and  coarse  ; the  English  ter- 
rier is  short,  close-haired,  stands  high  on  his  legs,  has  a thickish 
head,  with  a long  and  fine  muzzle,  and  is  usually  of  a black-and- 
tan  color.  It  is  not,  perhaps,  very  material  as  to  which  of  these 
breeds  you  have,  provided  you  train  them  properly  to  their  game. 

The  proper  time  for  breaking  your  whelps  is  at  the  age  of  six 
to  eight  months  ; if  you  do  it  earlier  you  may  blink  or  cow  them, 
and  if  you  neglect  it  to  a later  period,  you  may  find  them  unfit, 
too  old  for  tuition.  One  great  point  is  to  teach  your  dogs  never 
to  mouth — this  would  prevent  them  from  being  rapid  killers,  and 
would  cause  the  escape  of  many  a rat : teach  them  to  kill  a rat  in 
a single  chop,  and  then  to  drop  the  carcase.  You  will  readily  effect 
this  by  putting  him  into  a corn  bin  with  a dozen  or  two  rats ; he 
will  then  be  in  a hurry  to  get  at  all,  and  will  not  waste  his  time 
with  any  individual. 

Ferrets  are  originally  natives  of  Africa ; it  will,  therefore,  be 
obvious  that  they  require  warmth  and  a perfectly  dry  hutch. 
These  animals  are  by  no  means  to  be  trifled  with,  as  they  are  only 
half  reclaimed.  Goldsmith  says  they  have  been  known  to  attack 
and  kill  children  in  the  cradle.  Mr.  Jesse  relates  an  incident  that 
occurred  a few  years  since  at  Kingston  in  Surrey,  of  a ferret  attack- 
ing a child,  and  having  it  nearly  killed  before  it  could  be  removed, 
and  even  then  persevered  in  its  attacks  until  its  back  was  broken 
by  repeated  kicks,  and  it  perished.  I myself  was  one  evening 
looking  for  a bitch  ferret  which  I missed  from  her  hutch  ; it  was 
dark,  and  I had  only  a candle  to  aid  me  in  my  search,  when  she 


60 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


sudden /y  sprang  at  my  face,  as  I was  stooping  over  her  place  of 
concealment — the  gloom  had  prevented  my  seeing  her — and  seized 
me  by  the  cartilage  of  the  nose,  to  which  she  hung  with  all  the 
obstinacy  of  a bull-dog.  I succeeded  in  getting  her  off  by  plung- 
ing my  face  into  a tub  of  water. 

When  ratting,  some  ferrets  require  muzzling , as  otherwise  they 
will,  if  they  capture  a rat,  lie  upon  the  carcase,  and,  after  satiating 
themselves  with  the  blood,  fall  asleep  there ; if  they  do  so,  you 
may  get  them  out  by  means  of  smoke , but  the  use  of  the  muzzle 
is  better.  This  consists  of  a little  round  bit  of  leather,  having  a 
hole  in  the  centre,  tlirough  which  the  ferret’s  nose  is  passed,  and 
attached  with  side  straps  to  a collar  which  encircles  the  neck.  Be 
careful  that  there  be  no  loose  straps  or  strings  about  it,  as  these 
might  become  entangled  with  roots,  &c.,  in  the  hole,  and  thus  keep 
the  ferret  prisoner  till  starved  to  death. 


SECTION  II. 

PREDACIOUS  BIRDS. 

EAGLES KITES  AND  HAWKS CROWS,  RAVENS,  ETC. 

Of  all  birds,  it  may  be  said  with  truth,  that  they  do  more  good 
than  harm.  Did  farmers  observe  their  habits  closely,  they  would 
know  this.  Even  the  crow,  detested  and  destructive  as  he  is,  is 
destructive  only  for  a very  few  days  in  each  year,  and  his  depreda- 
tions, in  a perceptible  manner,  are  ordinarily  confined  to  the  corn- 
field, just  at  the  season  of  the  sprouting  of  the  seed,  and  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  blade  above  the  ground.  He  somewhat  infests 
newly-sown  wheat,  oats,  and  barley.  And  here  ends  his  de- 
predations. The  benefit  that  his  race  confers  is  the  destruction 
of  myriads  of  destroying  worms.  Did  the  crow  not  eat  these,  they 
would  do  far  more  injury  than  he  does.  They  cannot  be  deterred 
from  destroying — he  may.  The  robin  and  the  woodpecker  are 
pests  among  the  cherries,  when  ripe,  and  yet  they  consume  insects, 
worms,  caterpillars,  in  vast  numbers,  that  living,  would  destroy  far 
more  fruit  than  the  birds.  Indeed,  it  may  be  said  that  without 
birds,  we  should  never  grow  any  fruit.  The  owl  and  the  hawk, 
that  destroy  occasionally  a chicken,  are  mousers,  and  in  the  destruc- 
tion of  mice  and  moles,  repay  amply  the  evil  they  do. 


BIRDS. 


61 


It  may  reasonably  be  doubted  if  any  birds,  even  the  eagle,  does 
as  much  harm  as  good.  We  always  observe  the  evil  done,  rarely 
the  benefit  rendered. 

Among  the  birds,  the  only  pests  worthy  of  being  noticed  arc 
the  eagle,  the  crow  and  raven,  the  hawk  (or  kite,  as  he  is  frequently 
called),  and  the  owl. 

The  Eagle. — The  eagle  is  a formidable  “ pest  of  the  farm,” 
pouncing  from  time  to  time  upon  the  various  inmates  of  the  poul- 
try-yard, and  carrying  away  the  young  in  its  talons,  and  even  oc- 
casionally extending  its  depredations  to  a young  pig  or  lamb  ; 
besides,  being,  in  some  instances,  known  to  attack  a sickly  or  dying 
beast,  and  to  anticipate  death  by  (vulture  fashion)  pecking  out  its 
eyes.  Still  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  eagle  usually  behaves  in 
a nobler  manner,  and,  unless  when  very  hard  pinched  by  appetite, 
contents  himself  with  such  prey  as  he  can  convey  away  to  his  nest, 
or,  as  it  is  called,  his  eyrie,  on  the  distant  cliff. 

There  are  three  sorts  of  eagle  whose  depredations  are  most  to  be 
feared  by  farmers.  These  are,  the  Bald  Eagle  or  White-Headed 
Eagle,  the  Ring-Tailed  Eagle,  and  the  Sea  Eagle.  A few  words 
relative  to  the  destruction  of  these  birds  will  suffice,  and  the  one 
set  of  directions  will  equally  apply  to  all.  The  best  mode  of  pro- 
tection against  the  ravages  of  the  eagles  is  to  shoot  them  where 
seen,  and  to  have  their  nests  annually  robbed.  This  is  best  ma- 
naged by  offering  a bounty  for  the  capture  of  young  ones,  or,  as 
they  are  called,  the  eaglets. 

Bald  Eagle  or  White-Headed  Eagle. — This  distinguished 
bird  is  entitled  to  particular  notice.  He  has  been  long  known  to 
naturalists,  being  common  to  both  continents,  and  occasionally  met 
with  from  a very  high  northern  latitude,  to  the  borders  of  the  tor- 
rid zone,  but  chiefly  in  the  vicinity  of  the  sea,  and  along  the  shores 
and  cliffs  of  our  lakes  and  large  rivers.  Formed  by  nature  for 
braving  the  severest  cold  ; feeding  equally  on  the  produce  of  the 
sea  and  of  the  land  ; possessing  powers  .of  flight  capable  of  out- 
stripping even  the  tempests  themselves  ; unawed  by  anything  but 
man ; and,  from  the  ethereal  heights  to  which  he  soars,  looking- 
abroad,  at  one  glance,  on  an  immeasurable  expanse  of  forests, 
fields,  lakes,  and  ocean,  deep  below  him,  he  appears  indifferent  to 
the  little  localities  of  change  of  seasons ; as,  in  a few  minutes,  he 
can  pass  from  summer  to  winter,  from  the  lower  to  the  higher  re- 
gions of  the  atmosphere,  the  abode  of  eternal  cold,  and  thence  de- 


62 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


scend,  at  will,  to  the  torrid,  or  the  arctic  regions  of  the  earth.  He 
is,  therefore,  found,  at  all  seasons,  in  the  countries  he  inhabits  ; but 
prefers  such  places  as  have  been  mentioned  above,  from  the  gieat 
partiality  he  has  for  fish. 

In  procuring  these,  he  displays,  in  a very  singular  manner,  the 
genius  and  energy  of  his  character,  which  is  fierce,  contemplative, 
daring,  and  tyrannical, — attributes  not  exerted  but  on  particular 
occasions,  but,  when  put  forth,  overpowering  all  opposition. 

When  driven,  as  he  sometimes  is,  by  the  combined  courage  and 
perseverance  of  the  fish  hawks,  from  their  neighborhood,  and  forced 
to  hunt  for  himself,  he  retires  more  inland,  in  search  of  young  pigs, 
of  which  he  destroys  great  numbers.  In  the  lower  parts  of  Vir- 
ginia and  North  Carolina,  where  the  inhabitants  raise  vast  herds 
of  those  animals,  complaints  of  this  kind  are  very  general  against 
him.  He  also  destroys  young  lambs  in  the  early  part  of  spring ; 
and  will  sometimes  attack  old  sickly  sheep,  aiming  furiously  at 
their  eyes. 

His  intrepidity  of  character  may  be  illustrated  by  the  following 
fact,  which  occurred  a few  years  ago,  near  Great  Egg  Harbor,  New 
Jersey  : — A woman,  who  happened  to  be  weeding  in  the  garden, 
had  set  her  child  down  near,  to  amuse  itself  while  she  was  at  work ; 
when  a sudden  and  extraordinary  rushing  sound,  and  a scream 
from  her  child,  alarmed  her,  and,  starting  up,  she  beheld  the  infant 
thrown  down,  and  dragged  some  few  feet,  and  a large  bald  eagle 
bearing  off  a fragment  of  its  frock,  which  being  the  only  part 
seized,  and  giving  way,  providentially  saved  the  life  of  the  infant. 

The  appetite  of  the  bald  eagle,  though  habituated  to  long  fast- 
ing, is  of  the  most  voracious,  and  often  the  most  indelicate  kind. 
Fish,  when  he  can  obtain  them,  are  preferred  to  all  other  fare. 
Young  lambs  and  pigs  ave  dainty  morsels,  and  made  free  with  on 
all  favorable  occasions.  Ducks,  geese,  gulls,  and  other  sea  fowl, 
are  also  seized  with  avidity. 

The  white-headed  eagle  is  three  feet  long,  and  seven  feet  in  ex- 
tent ; the  bill  is  of  a rich  yellow ; cere,  the  same,  slightly  tinged 
with  green  ; mouth,  flesh-colored  ; tip  of  the  tongue,  bluish  black ; 
the  head,  chief  part  of  the  neck,  vent,  tail-coverts,  and  tail,  are 
white  in  the  perfect,  or  old  birds  of  both  sexes, — in  those 
under  three  years  of  age  these  parts  are  of  a gray  brown ; the 
rest  of  the  plumage  is  dark  brown,  each  feather  tipped  with  pale 
brown,  lightest  on  the  shoulder  of  the  wing,  and  darkest  towards 
its  extremities.  The  conformation  of  the  wing  is  admirably  adapted 


BIRDS. 


63 


for  the  support  of  so  large  a bird  ; it  measures  two  feet  in  breadth 
on  the  greater  quills,  and  sixteen  inches  on  the  lesser ; the  longest 
primaries  are  twenty  inches  in  length,  and  upwards  of  one  incli  in 
circumference  where  they  enter  the  skin ; the  broadest  secondaries 
are  three  inches  in  breadth  across  the  vane  ; the  scapulars  are  very 
large  and  broad,  spreading  from  the  back  to  the  wing,  to  prevent 
the  air  from  passing  through ; another  range  of  broad  flat  feathers, 
from  three  to  ten  inches  in  length,  also  extends  from  the  lower  part 
of  the  breast  to  the  wing  below,  for  the  same  purpose ; between 
these  lies  a deep  triangular  cavity ; the  thighs  are  remarkably 
thick,  strong,  and  muscular,  covered  with  long  feathers  pointing 
backwards,  usually  called  the  femoral  feathers  ; the  legs,  which  are 
covered  half  way  below  the  knee,  before,  with  dark,  brown  downy 
feathers,  are  of  a rich  yellow,  the  color  of  ripe  Indian  corn ; feet, 
the  same ; claws,  blue-black,  very  large  and  strong,  particularly  the 
inner  one,  which  is  considerably  the  largest ; soles,  very  rough  and 
warty  ; the  eye  is  sunk  under  a bony,  or  cartilaginous  projection, 
of  a pale  yellow  color,  and  is  turned  considerably  forwards,  not 
standing  parallel  with  the  cheeks ; the  iris  is  of  a bright  straw  color, 
pupil  black. 

The  male  is  generally  two  or  three  inches  shorter  than  the  fe- 
male ; the  white  on  the  head,  neck,  and  tail  being  more  tinged 
with  yellowish,  and  its  whole  appearance  less  formidable ; the 
brown  plumage  is  also  lighter,  and  the  bird  itself  less  daring  than 
the  female, — a circumstance  common  to  almost  all  birds  of  prey. 

The  eagle  is  said  to  live  to  a great  age, — sixty,  eighty,  and,  as 
some  assert,  one  hundred  years.  This  circumstance  is  remarkable, 
when  we  consider  the  seeming  intemperate  habits  of  the  bird, 
sometimes  fasting,  through  necessity,  for  several  days,  and  at  other 
times  gorging  itself  with  animal  food  till  its  craw  swells  out  the 
plumage  of  that  part,  forming  a large  protuberance  on  the  breast. 
This,  however,  is  its  natural  food,  and  for  these  habits  its  whole  or- 
ganization is  particularly  adapted.  Its  food  is  simple,  it  indulges 
freely,  uses  great  exercise,  breathes  the  purest  air,  is  healthy, 
vigorous,  and'long  lived. 

The  Ring-Tailed  Eagle. — This  noble  bird,  in  strength,  spirit, 
and  activity,  ranks  among  the  first  of  its  tribe.  It  is  found,  though 
sparingly  dispersed,  over  the  whole  temperate  and  arctic  regions, 
particularly  the  latter ; breeding  on  high,  precipitous  rocks,  always 
preferring  a mountainous  country. 

The  ring-tailed  eagle  measures  nearly  three  feet  in  length  ; the 


64 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


bill  is  of  a brownish  horn  color ; the  cere,  sides  of  the  mouth,  and 
feet,  j el  low  ; iris  of  the  eye,  reddish  hazel,  the  eye  turned  consider- 
ably forwards ; eyebrow,  remarkably  prominent,  projecting  over 
the  eye,  and  giving  a peculiar  sternness  to  the  aspect  of  the  bird ; 
the  crown  is  fiat ; the  plumage  of  the  head,  throat,  and  neck,  long 
and  pointed ; that  on  the  upper  part  of  the  head  and  neck,  very 
pale  ferruginous ; fore  part  of  the  crown,  black ; all  the  pointed 
feathers  are  shafted  with  black ; whole  upper  parts,  dark  blackish 
brown  ; wings,  black ; tail,  rounded,  long,  of  a white,  or  pale 
cream  color,  minutely  sprinkled  with  specks  of  ash,  and  dusky,  and 
ending  in  a broad  band  of  deep  dark  brown,  of  nearly  one-third  its 
length;  chin,  cheeks,  and  throat, black;  whole  lower  parts,  a deep 
dark  brown,  except  the  yent  and  inside  of  the  thighs,  which  are 
white,  stained  with  brown  ; legs,  thickly  covered  to  the  feet,  with 
brownish  white  down,  or  feathers ; claws,  black,  very  large,  sharp, 
and  formidable,  the  hind  one  full  two  inches  long. 

The  ring-tailed  eagle  is  found  in  the  northern  parts  of  America. 

Sea  Eagle  or  Gray  Eagle. — This  eagle  inhabits  the  same 
countries,  frequent  the  same  situations,  and  lives  on  the  same  kind 
of  food,  as  the  bald  eagle,  with  whom  it  is  often  seen  in  company. 
It  resembles  this  last  much  in  figure,  size,  form  of  the  bill,  legs, 
and  claws,  and  is  often  seen  associating  with  it  both  along  the  At- 
lantic coast  and  in  the  vicinity  of  our  lakes  and  large  rivers. 

The  sea  eagle  is  said,  by  Salerne,  to  build  on  the  loftiest  oaks  a 
very  broad  nest,  into  which  it  drops  two  large  eggs,  that  are  quite 
round,  exceedingly  heavy,  and  of  a dirty  white  color.  Of  the  pre 
cise  time  of  building,  we  have  no  account. 

The  bird  measures  three  feet  in  length,  and  upwards  of  seven 
feet  in  extent.  The  bill  formed  exactly  like  that  of  the  bald  eagle, 
but  of  a dusky  brown  color ; cere  and  legs,  bright  yellow  ; the  lat- 
ter, as  in  the  bald  eagle,  feathered  a little  below  the  knee ; irides, 
a bright  straw  color ; head  above,  neck,  and  back,  streaked  with 
light  brown,  deep  brown,  and  white,  the  plumage  being  white, 
tipped  and  centred  with  brown  ; scapulars,  brown ; lesser  wing- 
coverts,  very  pale,  intermixed  with  white ; primaries,  black,  their 
shafts  brownish  white  ; rump,  pale  brownish  white  ; tail,  rounded, 
somewhat  longer  than  the  wings,  when  shut,  brown  on  the  exterior 
vanes,  the  inner  ones  white,  sprinkled  with  dirty  brown  ; throat, 
breast,  and  belly,  white,  dashed  and  streaked  with  different  tints  of 
brown  and  pale  yellow ; vent,  brown,  tipped  with  white ; femorals, 
dark  br  wn,  tipped  with  lighter ; auri<?ular«,  brown,  forming  a bar 


BIRDS. 


65 


from  below  the  eye  backwards  ; plumage  of  the  neck,  long,  narrow, 
and  pointed,  as  is  usual  with  eagles,  anc  of  a Irownish  color  tip- 
ped with  white. 

The  sea  eagle  is  said  to  hunt  at  night,  as  well  as  during  the  day, 
and  that,  besides  fish,  it  feeds  on  chickens,  birds,  hares,  and  other 
animals.  It  is  also  said  to  catch  fish  during  the  night ; and  that 


THE  SEA  EAGLE. 


the  noise  of  its  plunging  into  the  water  is  heard  at  a great  distance. 
But,  in  the  descriptions  of  writers,  this  bird  has  been  so  fre- 
quently confounded  with  the  osprey,  as  to  leave  little  doubt  that 
the  habits  and  manners  of  the  one  have  been  often  attributed  to 
both,  and  others  added  that  are  common  to  neither. 

The  gun,  poisoned  meats,  or  traps  baited  with  meat  or  fish,  are 
the  only  means  of  destroying  eagles. 

The  Crow. — This  is  perhaps  the  most  generally  known,  and 
least  beloved,  of  all  our  land  birds ; having  neither  melody  of  song 


06 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


nor  beauty  of  plumage,  nor  excellence  of  flesh,  no:  civility  of  man- 
ners to  recommend  him  ; on  the  contrary,  he  is  hr  sided  as  a thief 
and  a plunderer — a kind  of  black-coated  vagabond,  who  hovers 
over  the  fields  of  the  industrious,  fattening  on  their  labors,  and,  by 
his  voracity,  often  blasting  their  expectations.  Hated  as  he  is  by  the 
farmer,  watched  and  persecuted  by  almost  every  bearer  of  a gun, 
who  all  triumph  in  his  destruction,  had  not  Heaven  bestowed  on 
him  intelligence  and  sagacity  far  beyond  common,  there  is  reason 
to  believe  that  the  whole  tribe  (in  these  parts  at  least)  would  long 
ago  have  ceased  to  exist. 

The  crow  is  a constant  attendant  on  agriculture,  and  a general 
inhabitant  of  the  cultivated  parts  of  North  America.  In  the  inte- 
rior of  the  forest  he  is  more  rare,  unless  during  the  season  of  breed- 
ing. He  is  particularly  attached  to  low  flat  corn  countries,  lying 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  sea,  or  of  large  rivers  ; and  more  nu- 
merous in  the  northern  than  southern  states.  A strong  antipathy, 
it  is  said,  prevails  between  the  crow  and  the  raven,  insomuch,  that 
where  the  latter  is  numerous,  the  former  rarely  resides. 

The  usual  breeding  time  of  the  crow,  is  in  March,  April,  and 
May,  during  which  season  they  are  dispersed  over  the  woods  in 
pairs,  and  roost  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  tree  they  have  selected 
for  their  nest.  About  the  middle  of  March  they  begin  to  build, 
generally  choosing  a high  tree. 

It  is  in  the  month  of  May,  and  until  the  middle  of  June,  that 
the  crow  is  most  destructive  to  the  corn-fields,  digging  up  the 
newly  planted  grains  of  maize,  pulling  up  by  the  roots  those  that 
have  begun  to  vegetate,  and  thus  frequently  obliging  the  farmer  to 
replant,  or  lose  the  benefit  of  the  soil ; and  this  sometimes  twice, 
and  even  three  times,  occasioning  a considerable  additional  expense, 
and  inequality  of  harvest.  No  mercy  is  now  shown  him.  The 
myriads  of  worms,  moles,  mice,  caterpillars,  grubs,  and  beetles, 
which  he  has  destroyed,  are  altogether  overlooked  on  these  occa- 
sions. Detected  in  robbing  the  hens’  nests,  pulling  up  the  corn, 
and  killing  the  young  chickens,  he  is  considered  as  an  outlaw,  and 
sentenced  to  destruction.  But  the  great  difficulty  is,  how  to  put 
this  sentence  in  execution.  In  vain  the  gunner  skulks  along  the 
hedges  and  fences ; his  faithful  sentinels,  planted  o n some  com- 
manding point,  raise  the  alarm,  and  disappoint  vengeance  of  its 
object.  The  coast  again  clear,  he  returns  once  more  in  silence,  to 
finish  the  repast  he  had  begun.  Sometimes  he  approaches  the 
farm-house  by  stealth,  in  search  of  young  chickens,  which  he  is  in 


BIRDS.  67 

the  habit  of  snatching  off,  when  he  can  elude  the  vigilance  of  the 
mother  hen,  who  often  proves  too  formidable  for  him. 

The  crow  himself  sometimes  falls  a prey  to  the  superior  strength 
and  rapacity  of  the  great  owl,  whose  weapons  of  offence  are  by  far 
the  more  formidable  of  the  two. 

Towards  the  close  of  summer,  the  parent  crows,  with  their  new 
families,  forsaking  their  solitary  lodgings,  collect  together,  as  if  by 
previous  agreement,  when  evening  approaches.  About  an  hour 
before  sunset,  they  are  first  observed,  flying,  somewhat  in  Indian 
file,  in  one  direction,  at  a short  height  above  the  tops  of  the  trees, 
silent  and  steady,  keeping  the  general  curvature  of  the  ground, 
continuing  to  pass  sometimes  till  after  sunset,  so  that  the  whole  line 
of  march  would  extend  for  many  miles.  This  circumstance,  so 
familiar  and  picturesque,  has  not  been  overlooked  by  the  poets,  in 
their  descriptions  of  a rural  evening. 

Crows  form  large  roosts  and  dwell  in  them  in  immense  numbers. 
A large  one  appeal's  to  be  the  grand  rendezvous,  or  head-quarters, 
of  the  greater  part  of  the  crows  within  forty  or  fifty  miles  of  the 
spot.  The  noise  created  by  these  multitudes,  both  in  their  evening 
assembly  and  reascension  in  the  morning,  and  the  depredations 
they  commit  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  a great  resort,  are 
almost  incredible.  Whole  fields  of  corn  are  sometimes  laid  waste 
by  thousands  alighting  on  it  at  once,  with  appetites  whetted  by  the 
fast  of  the  preceding  night ; and  the  utmost  vigilance  is  unavailing 
to  prevent,  at  least,  a partial  destruction  of  this  their  favorite  grain. 
Like  the  stragglers  of  an  immense,  undisciplined,  and  rapacious 
army,  they  spread  themselves  over  the  fields,  to  plunder  and  des- 
troy wherever  they  alight.  It  is  here  that  the  character  of  the 
crow  is  universally  execrated  ; and  to  say  to  the  man  who  has  lost 
his  crop  of  corn  by  these  birds,  that  crows  are  exceedingly  useful 
for  destroying  vermin,  would  be  as  consolatory  as  to  tell  him  who 
had  just  lost  his  house  and  furniture  by  the  flames,  that  fires  are 
excellent  for  destroying  bugs. 

So  universal  is  the  hatred  to  crows,  that  few  states  have  neg- 
lected to  offer  rewards  for  their  destruction.  In  the  United  States, 
they  have  been  repeatedly  ranked  in  our  laws  with  the  wolves,  the 
panthers,  foxes,  and  squirrels,  and  a proportionable  premium  offered 
for  their  heads,  to  be  paid  by  any  justice  of  the  peace  to  whom 
they  are  delivered.  On  all  these  accounts,  various  modes  have 
been  invented  for  capturing  them.  They  have  been  taken  in  clap- 
nets, commonly  used  for  taking  pigeons ; two  or  three  live  crows 


68 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


being  previously  procured  as  decoys,  or,  as  they  are  called,  stool- 
crows.  Corn  lias  been  steeped  in  a strong  decoction  of  hellebore, 
which,  when  eaten  by  them,  produces  giddiness,  and  finally,  it  is 
said,  death.  Pieces  of  paper  formed  into  the  shape  of  a hollow 
cone,  besmeared  within  with  birdlime,  and  a grain  or  two  of  com 
dropped  on  the  bottom,  have  also  been  adopted.  Numbers  of 
these  being  placed  on  the  ground,  where  corn  has  been  planted, 
the  crows  attempting  to  reach  the  grains,  are  instantly  hoodwinked, 
fly  directly  upwards  to  a great  height ; but  generally  descend  near 
the  spot  whence  they  rose,  and  are  easily  taken.  The  reeds  of  their 
roosting  places  are  sometimes  set  on  fire  during  a dark  night,  and 
the  gunners  having  previously  posted  themselves  around,  the  crows 
rise  in  great  uproar,  and,  amidst  the  general  consternation,  by  the 
light  of  the  burnings,  hundreds  of  them, are  shot  down. 

Crows  have  been  employed  to  catch  crows,  by  the  following 
stratagem  : — A live  crow  is  pinned  by  the  wings  down  to  the 
ground  on  his  back,  by  means  of  two  sharp,  forked  sticks.  Thus 
situated,  his  cries  are  loud  and  incessant,  particularly  if  any  other 
crows  are  within  view.  These,  sweeping  down  about  him,  are  in- 
stantly grappled  by  the  prostrate  prisoner,  by  the  same  instinctive 
impulse  that  urges  a drowning  person  to  grasp  at  everything  within 
his  reach.  Having  disengaged  the  game  from  his  clutches,  the 
trap  is  again  ready  for  another  experiment ; and  by  pinning  down 
each  captive,  successively,  as  soon  as  taken,  in  a short  time  you  will 
probably  have  a large  flock  screaming  above  you,  in  concert  with 
the  outrageous  prisoners  below.  Many  farmers,  however,  are  con- 
tent with  hanging  up  the  skins,  or  dead  carcasses,  of  crows  in  their 
corn-fields,  in  terrwem  ; others  depend  altogether  on  the  gun,  keep- 
ing one  of  their  people  supplied  with  ammunition,  and  constantly 
on  the  look  out. 

The  habits  of  the  crow  in  his  native  state  are  so  generally  known 
as  to  require  little  further  illustration.  His  watchfulness,  and  jeal- 
ous sagacity  in  distinguishing  a person  with  a gun,  are  notorious 
to  every  one.  In  spring,  when  he  makes  his  appearance  among 
the  groves  and  low  thickets,  the  whole  feathered  songsters  are  in- 
stantly alarmed,  well  knowing  the  depredations  and  murders  he 
commits  on  their  nests,  eggs,  and  young.  Few  of  them,  however, 
have  the  courage  to  attack  him,  except  the  king  bird,  who,  on  these 
occasions,  teases  and  pursues  him  from  place  to  place,  diving  on  his 
back  while  high  in  the  air,  and  harassing  him  for  a great  distance. 
A single  pair  of  these  noble-spirited  birds,  whose  nest  was  built 


BIRDS. 


69 


near,  have  been  known  to  protect  a whole  field  of  com  from  the 
depredations  of  the  crows,  not  permitting  one  to  approach  it. 

The  crow  is  eighteen  inches  and  a haft’  long,  and  three  feet  two 
inches  in  extent ; the  general  color  is  a shining  glossy  blue  black, 
with  purplish  reflections;  the  throat  and  lower  parts  are  less 
glossy  ; the  bill  and  legs,  a shining  black,  the  former  two  inches 
and  a quarter  long,  very  strong,  and  covered  at  the  base  with 
thick  tufts  of  recumbent  feathers ; the  wings,  when  shut,  reach 
within  an  inch  and  a quarter  of  the  tip  of  the  tail,  which  is 
rounded ; fourth  primary,  the  longest ; secondaries  scolloped  at  the 
ends,  and  minutely  pointed,  by  the  prolongation  of  the  shaft ; iris, 
dark  hazel. 

The  female  differs  from  the  male  in  being  more  dull  colored,  and 
rather  deficient  in  the  glossy  and  purplish  tints  and  reflections. 
The  difference,  however,  is  not  great. 

Besides  grain,  insects,  and  carrion,  they  feed  on  frogs,  tadpoles, 
small  fish,  lizards,  and  shell  fish ; with  the  latter  they  frequently 
mount  to  a great  height,  dropping  them  on  the  rocks  below,  and 
descending  after  them  to  pick  up  the  contents.  Many  other  aquatic 
insects,  as  well  as  marine  plants,  furnish  them  with  food ; which 
accounts  for  their  being  so  generally  found,  and  so  numerous,  on 
the  sea  shore,  and  along  the  banks  of  our  large  rivers. 

The  Raven. — The  raven  is  a general  inhabitant  of  the  United 
States,  but  is  more  common  in  the  interior.  It  is  a remarkable 
fact,  that  where  they  so  abound,  the  common  crow  seldom  makes 
its  appearance  ; being  intimidated,  it  is  conjectured,  by  the  superior 
size  and  strength  of  the  former,  or  by  an  antipathy  which  the  two 
species  manifest  towards  each  other. 

The  food  of  this  species  is  dead  animal  matter  of  all  kinds,  not 
excepting  the  most  putrid  carrion,  which  it  devours  in  common 
with  the  vultures  ; worms,  grubs,  reptiles,  and  shell  fish,  the  last  of 
which,  in  the  manner  of  the  crow,  it  drops  from  a considerable 
height  in  the  air,  on  the  rocks,  in  order  to  break  the  shells  ; it  is 
fond  of  bird’s  eggs,  and  is  often  observed  sneaking  around  the 
farm-house  in  search  of  the  eggs  of  the  domestic  poultry,  which  it 
sucks  with  eagerness  ; it  is  likewise  charged  with  destroying  young 
ducks  and  chickens,  and  lambs  which  have  been  yeaned  in  a sickly 
state. 

The  raven  measures,  from  the  tip  of  the  bill  to  the  end  of  the 
tail,  twenty-six  inches,  and  is  four  feet  in  extent ; the  bill  is  large 
and  strong,  of  a shining  black,  notched  near  the  tip,  and  three  in- 


70 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


dies  long ; the  setaceous  feathers  which  cover  the  nostrils  extend 
half  its  length  ; the  eyes  are  black  ; the  general  color  is  a deep 
glossy  black,  with  steel-blue  reflections ; the  lower  parts  are  less 
glossy  ; the  tail  is  rounded,  and  extends  about  two  inches  beyond 
the  wings  ; the  legs  are  two  inches  and  a half  in  length,  and,  with 
the  feet,  are  strong  and  black  ; the  claws  are  long. 

This  bird  is  said  to  attain  to  a great  age  ; and  its  plumage  to  be 
subject  to  change  from  the  influence  of  years  and  of  climate.  It 
is  found  in  Iceland  and  Greenland  entirely  white. 

The  raven  may  be  destroyed  in  several  of  the  many  ways  adopted 
to  kill  the  crow.  He  is  more  easily  shot  than  the  crow. 

Of  Hawks  there  is  a great  variety  in  America.  Those  only 
are  described  that  are  common  and  diffused  enough  to  be  generally 
troublesome. 

American  Sparrow  Hawk. — This  bird  is  a constant  resident 
in  almost  every  part  of  the  United  States,  particularly  in  the  states 
north  of  Maryland.  In  the  Southern  States  there  is  a smaller 
species  found,  which  is  destitute  of  the  black  spots  on  the  head  ; 
the  legs  are  long  and  very  slender,  and  the  wings  light  blue. 

The  nest  of  this  species  is  usually  built  in  a hollow  tree ; gene- 
rally pretty  high  up,  where  the  top,  or  a large  limb,  has  been 
broken  off.  The  female  generally  lays  four  or  five  eggs,  which  are 
of  a light  brownish  yellow  color,  spotted  with  a darker  tint ; the 
young  are  fed  on  grasshoppers,  mice,  and  small  birds,  the  usual 
food  of  the  parents. 

The  habits  and  manners  of  this  bird  are  well  known.  It  flies 
rather  irregularly,  occasionally  suspending  itself  in  the  air,  hover- 
ing over  a particular  spot  for  a minute  or  two,  and  then  shooting 
off  in  another  direction.  It  perches  on  the  top  of  a dead  tree  or 
pole,  in  the  middle  of  a field  or  meadow,  and,  as  it  alights,  shuts 
its  long  wings  so  suddenly,  that  they  seem  instantly  to  disappear  ; 
it  sits  here  in  an  almost  perpendicular  position,  sometimes  for  an 
hour  at  a time,  frequently  jerking  its  tail,  and  reconnoitring  the 
ground  below,  in  every  direction,  for  mice,  lizards,  &c.  It  ap- 
proaches the  farm-house,  particularly  in  the  morning,  skulking 
about  the  barn-yard  for  mice  or  young  chickens.  It  frequently 
plunges  into  a thicket  after  small  birds,  as  if  by  random,  but 
always  writh  a particular,  and  generally  a fatal,  aim.  It  is  particu- 
larly fond  of  watching  along  hedge-rows,  and  in  orchards,  whero 
those  small  birds  usually  resort.  When  grasshoppers  are  plenty, 
they  form  a considerable  part  of  its  food. 


BIRDS. 


71 


Though  small  snakes,  mice,  lizards,  <fcc.,  be  favorite  morsels  with 
this  active  bird,  yet  we  are  not  to  suppose  it  altogether  destitute  of 
delicacy  in  feeding.  It  will  seldom  or  never  eat  of  anything  that  it 
has  not  itself  killed,  and  even  that,  if  not  in  good  eating  order , is 
sometimes  rejected. 

The  female  of  this  species  is  eleven  inches  long,  and  twenty- 
three  from  tip  to  tip  of  the  expanded  wings.  The  cere  and  legs 
are  yellow ; bill,  blue,  tipped  with  black ; space  round  the  eye, 
greenish  blue  ; iris,  deep  dusky ; head,  bluish  ash  ; crown,  rufous  ; 
seven  spots  of  black  on  a white  ground  surround  the  head ; whole 
upper  parts  reddish  bay,  transversely  streaked  with  black  ; primary 
and  secondary  quills,  black,  spotted  on  their  inner  vanes  with 
brownish  white ; whole  lower  parts,  yellowish  white,  marked  with 
longitudinal  streaks  of  brown,  except  the  chin,  vent,  and  femoral 
feathers,  which  are  white  ; claws,  black. 

The  male  sparrow  hawk  measures  about  ten  inches  in  length, 
and  twenty-one  in  extent ; the  whole  upper  parts  of  the  head  are 
of  a fine  slate  blue,  the  shafts  of  the  plumage  being  black,  the 
crown  excepted,  which  is  marked  with  a spot  of  bright  rufous ; the 
slate  tapers  to  a point  on  each  side  of  the  neck  ; seven  black  spots 
surround  the  head,  as  in  the  female,  on  a reddish  white  ground, 
which  also  borders  each  sloping  side  of  the  blue ; front,  lores,  line 
over  and  under  the  eye,  chin,  and  throat,  white ; femoral  and  vent- 
feathers,  yellowish  white  ; the  rest  of  the  lower  parts,  of  the  same 
tint,  each  feather  being  streaked  down  the  centre  with  a long  black 
drop  ; those  on  the  breast,  slender,  on  the  sides,  larger ; upper  part 
of  the  back  and  scapulars,  deep  reddish  bay,  marked  with  ten  or 
twelve  tranverse  waves  of  black ; whole  wing-coverts  and  ends  of 
the  secondaries,  bright  slate,  spotted  with  black ; primaries  and 
upper  half  of  the  secondaries,  black,  tipped  with  white,  and  spotted 
on  their  inner  vanes  with  the  same ; lower  part  of  the  back,  the 
rump,  and  tail-coverts,  plain  bright  bay  ; tail  rounded,  the  two  ex- 
terior feathers  white,  their  inner  vanes  beautifully  spotted  with 
black ; the  next,  bright  bay,  with  a broad  band  of  black  near  its 
end,  and  tipped  for  half  an  inch  with  yellowish  white ; part  of  its 
lower  exterior  edge,  white,  spotted  with  black,  and  its  opposite  in- 
terior edge,  touched  with  white  ; the  whole  of  the  others  are  very 
deep  red  bay,  with  a single,  broad  band  of  black  near  the  end,  and 
tipped  with  yellowish  white ; cere  and  legs,  yellow  ; orbits,  the 
same ; bill,  light  blue ; iris  of  the  eye,  dark,  almost  black  ; e\aw*s 
blue-black. 


72 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FAKil. 


Red-Tailed  Hawk. — This  species  inhabits  the  whole  United 
States,  and  is  not  migratory.  Among  extensive  meadows,  where 
flocks  of  larks,  and  where  mice  and  moles  are  in  great  abundance, 
many  individuals  of  this  hawk  spend  the  greater  part  of  the  winter. 
Others  prowl  around  the  plantations,  looking  out  for  vagrant 
chickens  ; their  method  of  seizing  which  is,  by  sweeping  swiftly 
over  the  spot,  and,  grappling  them  with  their  talons,  bearing  them 
away  to  the  woods. 

The  red-tailed  hawk  is  twenty  inches  long,  and  three  feet  nine 
inches  in  extent ; bill,  blue-black ; cere,  and  sides  of  the  mouth, 
yellow,  tinged  with  green ; lores,  and  spot  on  the  under  eyelid, 
white,  the  former  marked  with  fine,  radiating  hairs  ; eyebrow,  or 
cartilage,  a dull  eel-skin  color,  prominent,  projecting  over  the  eye ; 
a broad  streak  of  dark  brown  extends  from  the  sides  of  the  mouth 
backwards ; crown  and  hind  head,  dark  brown,  seamed  with  white, 
and  ferruginous ; sides  of  the  neck,  dull  ferruginous,  streaked  with 
brown;  eye,  large;  iris,  pale  amber;  back  and  shoulders,  deep 
brown  ; wings,  dusky,  barred  with  blackish  ; ends  of  the  five  first 
primaries,  nearly  black  ; scapulars,  barred  broadly  with  white  and 
brown  ; sides  of  the  tail-coverts,  white,  barred  with  ferruginous, 
middle  ones  dark,  edged  with  rust ; tail,  rounded,  extending  two 
inches  beyond  the  wings,  and  of  a bright  red  brown,  with  a single 
band  of  black  near  the  end,  and  tipped  with  brownish  white  ; on 
some  of  the  lateral  feathers  are  slight  indications  of  the  remains  of 
other  narrow  bars ; lower  parts,  brownish  white  ; the  breast,  fer- 
ruginous, streaked  with  dark  brown ; across  the  belly,  a band  of 
interrupted  spots  of  brown  ; chin,  white  ; femorals  and  vent,  pale 
brownish  white,  the  former  marked  with  a few  minute  heart- 
shaped  spots  of  brown  ; legs,  yellow,  feathered  half  way  below  the 
knees. 

The  gun,  or  traps  baited  with  mice,  toads,  &c.,  or  a dead  fowl, 
are  the  proper  means  to  destroy  hawks. 

Owls. — There  is  a great  variety  of  owls  all  over  America.  Some 
are  so  rare  as  to  be  of  no  account  as  pests ; others  are  common 
everywhere.  The  predacious  habits  of  all  are  the  same.  Those  that 
arc  described  will,  as  far  as  evil  habits  are  concerned,  *epresent  the 
whole  variety. 

The  Barred  Owl. — This  is  one  of  our  most  common  owls. 
It  is  very  frequently  observed  flying  during  day,  and  certainly  sees 
more  distinctly  at  that  time  than  many  of  its  genus. 

These  birds  sometimes  seize  on  fowls,  partridges,  and  young  rab- 


BIRDS. 


7S 


bits ; mice  and  small  game  are,  however,  their  most  usual  food.  The 
difference  in  size  between  the  male  and  female  of  this  owl  is  extra- 
ordinary, amounting  sometimes  to  nearly  eight  inches  in  the  length. 
Both  scream  during  day,  like  a hawk. 


THE  OWL. 

The  male  barred  owl  measures  sixteen  inches  and  a half  in 
length,  and  thirty-eight  inches  in  extent ; upper  parts  a pale  brown, 
marked  with  transverse  spots  of  White ; wings  barred  with  alter- 
nate bands  of  pale  brown,  and  darker ; head,  smooth,  very  large, 
mottled  with  transverse  touches  of  dark  brown,  pale  brown,  and 
white  ; eyes,  large,  deep  blue,  the  pupil  not  perceivable ; face,  or 
radiated  circle  c the  eyes,  gray,  surrounded  by  an  outline  of  brown 
4 


74 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


and  white  dots ; bill,  yellow,  tinged  with  green  ; breast,  barred 
transversely  with  rows  of  brown  and  white ; belly,  streaked  longi- 
tudinally with  long  stripes  of  brown,  on  a yellowish  ground  ; vent, 
plain  yellowish  white;  thighs  and  feathered  legs,  the  same, 
slightly  pointed  with  brown ; toes,  nearly  covered  with  plumage  *, 
claws,  dark  horn  color,  very  sharp  ; tail,  rounded,  and  remarkably 
concave  below,  barred  with  six  broad  bars  of  brown,  and  as  many 
narrow  ones  of  white ; the  back  and  shoulders  have  a cast  of  chest- 
nut ; at  each  internal  angle  of  the  eye,  is  a broad  spot  of  black ; 
the  plumage  of  the  radiated  circle  round  the  eye  ends  in  long  black 
hairs  ; and  the  bill  is  encompassed  by  others  of  a longer  and  more 
bristly  kind.  These  probably  serve  to  guard  the  eye  when  any 
danger  approaches  it  in  sweeping  hastily  through  the  woods ; and 
those  usually  found  on  flycatchers  may  have  the  same  intention  to 
fulfill ; for,  on  the  slightest  touch  of  the  point  of  any  of  these  hairs, 
the  nicitant  membrane  was  instantly  thrown  over  the  eye. 

The  female  is  twenty-two  inches  long,  and  four  feet  in  extent ; 
the  chief  difference  of  color  consists  in  her  wings  being  broadly 
spotted  with  white  ; the  shoulder  being  a plain  chocolate  brown  ; 
the  tail  extends  considerably  beyond  the  tips  of  the  wings  ; the  bill 
is  much  larger,  and  o-f  a more  golden  yellow  ; iris  of  the  eye,  the 
same  as  that  of  the  male. 

Little  Owl. — This  is  one  of  the  least  of  its  whole  genus ; but, 
like  many  other  little  folks,  makes  up,  in  neatness  of  general  form 
and  appearance,  for  deficiency  of  size,  and  is,  perhaps,  the  most 
shapely  of  all  our  owls.  Nor  are  the  colors  and  markings  of  its 
plumage  inferior  in  simplicity  and  effect  to  most  others.  It  also 
possesses  an  eye  fully  equal  in  spirit  and  brilliancy  to  the  best  of 
them. 

This  species  is  a general  and  constant  inhabitant  of  the  middle 
and  northern  states  ; but  is  found  most  numerous  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  sea-shore,  and  among  woods  and  swamps  of  pine  trees. 
It  rarely  rambles  much  during  day ; but,  if  disturbed,  flies  a short 
way,  and  again  takes  shelter  from  the  light;  at  the  approach  of 
twilight  it  is  all  life  and  activity,  being  a noted  and  dextrous 
mouse-catcher. 

The  little  owl  is  seven  inches  and  a half  long,  and  eighteen  in- 
ches in  extent ; the  upper  parts  are  a plain  brown  olive,  the  scapu- 
lars and  some  of  the  greater  and  lesser  coverts  being  spotted  with 
white ; the  first  five  primaries  are  crossed  obliquely  with  five  bars 
of  white  ; tail  rounded,  rather  darker  than  the  body,  crossed  with 


BIRDS. 


75 


two  rows  of  white  spots,  and  tipped  with  white ; whole  interior 
vanes  of  the  wings,  spotted  with  the  same ; auriculars,  yellowish 
brown  ; crown,  upper  part  of  the  neck,  and  circle  surrounding  the 
ears,  beautifully  marked  with  numerous  points  of  white  on  an  olive 
brown  ground ; front,  pure  white,  ending  in  long  blackish  hairs ; 
at  the  internal  angle  of  the  eyes,  a broad  spot  of  black  radiating 
outwards ; irides,  pale  yellow ; bill,  a blackish  horn  color ; lower 
parts,  streaked  with  yellow  ochre  and  reddish  bay ; thighs,  and  fea- 
thered legs,  pale  buff;  toes,  covered  to  the  claws,  which  are  black, 
large,  and  sharp-pointed. 

Red  Owl. — This  is  another  of  our  nocturnal  wanderers,  well 
known  by  its  common  name,  the  little  screech  owl ; and  noted  for 
its  melancholy  quivering  kind  of  wailing  in  the  evenings,  particu- 
larly towards  the  latter  part  of  summer  and  autumn,  near  the  farm- 
house. On  clear  moonlight  nights,  they  answer  each  other  from 
various  parts  of  the  fields  or  orchards;  roost  during  the  day  in 
thick  evergreens,  such  as  cedar,  pine,  or  juniper  trees,  and  are 
rarely  seen  abroad  in  sunshine.  In  May,  they  construct  their  nest 
in  the  hollow  of  a tree,  often  in  the  orchard  in  an  old  apple  tree ; 
the  nest  is  composed  of  some  hay  and  a few  feathers ; the  eggs 
are  four,  pure  white,  and  nearly  round.  The  young  are  at  first 
covered  with  a whitish  down. 

This  species  is  found  generally  over  the  United  States,  and  is 
not  migratory.  ' 

The  red  owl  is  eight  inches  and  a half  long,  and  twenty-one  in- 
ches in  extent ; general  color  of  the  plumage  above,  a bright  nut 
brown,  or  tawny  red ; the  shafts,  black ; exterior  edges  of  the 
outer  row  of  scapulars,  white  ; bastard  wing,  the  five  first  primaries, 
and  three  or  four  of  the  first  greater  coverts,  all  spotted  with  white ; 
whole  wing-quills,  spotted  with  dusky  on  their  exterior  webs  ; tail, 
rounded,  transversely  barred  with  dusky  and  pale  brown  ; chin, 
breast,  and  sides,  bright  reddish  brown,  streaked*  laterally  with 
black,  intermixed  with  white ; belly  and  vent,  white,  spotted  with 
bright  brown ; legs,  covered  to  the  claws  with  pale  brown  hairy 
down ; extremities  of  the  toes  and  claws,  pale  bluish,  ending  in 
black ; bill,  a pale  bluish  horn  color ; eyes,  vivid  yellow  ; inner 
angles  of  the  eyes,  eyebrows,  and  space  surrounding  the  bill, 
whitish  ; rest  of  the  face,  nut  brown  ; head,  horned  or  eared,  each 
horn  consisting  of  nine  or  ten  feathers  of  a tawny  red,  shafted  with 
black. 

Great  Horned  Owl. — This  noted  and  formidable  owl  is  found 


76 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


r 


in  almost  every  quarter  of  the  United  States.  His  favorite  reu* 
dence,  however,  is  in  the  dark  solitudes  of  deep  swamps,  covered 
with  a growth  of  gigantic  timber ; and  here,  as  soon  as  evening 
draws  on,  and  mankind  retire  to  rest,  he  sends  forth  such  sounds 
as  seem  scarcely  to  belong  to  this  world,  startling  the  solitary  pil- 
grim as  he  slumbers  by  his  forest  fire,  “ making  night  hideous.” 

It  preys  on  young  rabbits,  squirrels,  rats,  mice,  partridges,  and 
small  birds  of  various  kinds.  It  has  been  often  known  to  prowl 
about  the  farm-house,  and  carry  off  chickens  from  roost. 

The  owl  being  nocturnal,  is  not  easily  shot,  but  may  be  occasion- 
ally. He  may  be  taken  in  traps  baited  with  mice,  fowls,  or  any  of 
his  usual  food. 


SECTION  III. 

INSECTS. 

It  is  in  the  lai'va  state  that  the  ravages  of  insects  are  most  felt,  and 
this  requires  a word  or  two  of  explanation. 

Butterflies,  Moths,  and  many  other  insects,  undergo  a succes- 
sion of  changes,  or  transformations,  prior  to  their  assuming  their 
last  and  frequently  gorgeous  form,  under  which  we  see  them  flut- 
tering from  flower  to  flower.  Of  course,  I speak  now  more  parti- 
culariy  of  the  butterfly.  The  moths  are  usually,  though,  no  doubt, 
many  of  them  are  extremely  beautiful,  much  more  sober  in  their 
movements,  and  less  gaudy  in  their  plumage.  They  are,  also,  prin- 
cipally of  nocturnal  habits,  and  consequently  come  less  frequently, 
and  less  strikingly,  under  our  notice. 

The  female  moth  or  butterfly  deposits  an  egg,  which,  gradually 
ripening  to  maturity,  becomes,  a maggot,  grub,  or  caterpillar.  This 
is  called  the  larva , and  it  is  in  this  stage  that  the  insects  prove 
most  noxious  to  the  farmer’s  crops.  These  larvae  are  excessively 
voracious,  and  their  ravages  terminate  only  with  their  next  trans- 
formation into  the  state  of  pupa , or  chrysalis.  Prior  to  assuming 
this  state,  the  caterpillar  forsakes  its  food,  and  seeks  some  retired 
and  safe  retreat,  usually  burying  itself  for  this  purpose  under- 
ground. The  head  then  gradually  bends  forward,  and  the  face  is 
embraced  by  the  upper  or  thoracic  feet ; the  body  likewise  becomes 
contracted  in  its  dimensions,  more  particularly  in  its  length,  and 


INSECTS. 


77 


also  gradually  becomes  covered  with  a firm  and  shell-like  coat  or 
case.  This  is  a thickening  and  induration  of  the  skin  of  the  grub, 
not  of  the  epidermis  or  cuticle  ; for  that  is  gradually  cast  as  a slough, 
in  proportion  as  the  work  of  transformation  proceeds.  The  chry- 
salis is  soon  formed ; some  insects  envelop  themselves  in  a web,  as 
the  silkworm,  <fcc. ; others  do  not.  During  this  stage,  the  insect  is, 
of  course,  perfectly  harmless.  In  course  of  time,  the  perfect  insect 
is  formed  within  its  shelly  sheath ; it  now  commences  the  work  of 
breaking  open  its  prison,  having  effected  which,  it  emerges  in  all 
the  beauty  of  insect  perfection. 

Caterpillars  do  not  prey  indiscriminately  on  all  sorts  of  herb- 
age or  farming  produce.  Each  species  has  its  favorite  plant,  or 
plants ; and  not  even  starvation  will  induce  it  to  transgress  these 
limits  that  instinct  has  assigned  to  its  appetite,  or  eat  of  a plant  of 
another  sort. 


THE  WIRE  WORM,  AND  PARENT  BEETLES,  MALE  AND  FEMALE. 

One  of  the  most  destructive  grubs  which  infests  the  fields  of  the 
agriculturist,  or  renders  futile  the  care  and  skill  of  the  gardener,  is, 
perhaps,  that  Well-known  larva — the  Wireworm.  I may  here  ob- 
serve that  the  general  name  of  wireworm  is  given  to  the  larva  of 
many  species  of  beetle,  all,  however,  very  similar  in  habits  and  ap- 
pearance, and  so  equally  gifted  as  to  their  destructive  powers,  that 
it  would  be  difficult,  indeed,  to  draw  any  distinction  in  this  respect 
between  them. 

Scarcely  any  land  is  free  from  the  ravages  of  some  one  or  other 
of  the  wireworms ; and  there  is  scarcely  any  description  of  crop 
upon  which  they  will  not  prey  with  equal  greediness.  Wherever 
grass  or  any  sort  of  herbage  will  grow,  there  will  the  greedy 
wireworm  be  found.  The  beetles,  of  which  the  wireworms  are 
the  larvae,  f.re  those  called  the  Elaters  ; also  spring-beetles,  skip- 


78 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


jacks,  and  click  or  snip-beetles,  from  the  power  they  possess  of 
springing  up  with  a click  or  snap-like  noise  when  placed  upon 
their  backs.  The  eggs  of  the  wireworm  are  very  minute,  and 
are  deposited  in  the  earth  at  the  root  of  the  young  plants.  When 
first  hatched  they  are  invisible  to  the  naked  eye,  but  attain  nearly 
the  length  of  an  inch  when  full  grown,  and  in  this  state  of  larvae 
they  remain  for  nearly  five  years.  No  wonder,  therefore,  that,  be- 
tween their  longevity  and  rapacity,  they  should  be  deemed  by  far- 
mers so  very  pestilent  a scourge.  During  the  continuance  of  their 
larva  state,  these  worms  cast  their  outer  skin  several  times,  being 
white  in  color,  and  very  tender  for  a short  period  after  each  slough- 
ing ; at  other  times  they  are  covered  with  a hard  and  solid  coat  of 
a horny  consistence,  so  firm  and  impenetrable  as  to  render  them 
proof  against  most  of  the  ordinary  remedies  that  might  be  used 
for  their  destruction. 

Wireworms  are  somewhat  more  than  half  an  inch  in  length,  and 
resemble  the  meal-worm  in  appearance,  but  are  more  angular , less 
perfectly  cylindrical , more  flattened  above  and  below.  Their  head 
is  horny  and  formed  for  perforation,  and  the  mouth,  though  small, 
is  furnished  with  a most  effective  pair  of  very  powerful  jaws. 
There  are  six  feet  on  the  upper  portion  of  the  thorax,  and  one  at 
the  extremity  or  tail.  The  former  are  called  pectoral  or  thoracic, 
the  latter  anal. 

When  full-grown,  the  wireworm  buries  itself  in  the  ground, 
where  it  forms  a cell,  in  which  it  becomes  a chrysalis  or  pupa ; 
this  change  takes  place  early  in  autumn,  and  in  two  or  three  weeks 
at  farthest  it  becomes  a beetle.  The  beetles  are  harmless,  feeding 
only  on  flowers ; they  can  fly  well,  and  when  on  the  ground  can 
run  very  fast,  with  their  heads  down,  and  drop  when  approached. 
The  mouth  is  not  the  same  in  appearance  with  that  which  existed 
in  the  worm,  but  will,  on  examination,  be  found  to  be  formed  of 
the  same  organs,  only  perfected. 

There  are  two  species  of  beetle  that  produce  the  wireworm, 
more  common  in  grain-fields  than  the  rest,  and  therefore  the  more 
to  be  dreaded.  These  are  : the  elater  appressifrons,  and  the  elater 
obesus. 

The  bug  parent  is  familiarly  known  as  the  snapping  bug.  As 
before  said  the  worm  continues  five  years  before  its  transmutation 
to  the  perfect  insect  state,  during  which  time  it  feeds  on  tlw  roots 
of  wheat,  barley,  oats,  corn  and  grass.  Its  ravages  are  sometimes 
extensive  and  desolating. 


INSECTS. 


79 


The  wireworms  usually  eat  into  the  stalks  just  about  the  roots, 
and  sometimes  separate  it  from  the  root  altogether ; they  seldom, 
however,  remain  so  long  engaged  upon  the  one  spot  or  portion  of 
stalk.  When  they  attack  potatoes,  they  penetrate  into  their  very 
hearts,  and  thus  frequently  wholly  destroy  the  seed  potatoes  when 
newly  planted ; to  obviate  which  it  has  been  recommended  to 
plant  whole  potatoes. 

Amongst  the  green  crops,  turnips  may  be  regarded  as  the 
greatest  sufferers,  and  the  tender  young  plants  are,  of  course,  most 
victimized  in  autumn.  Multitudes  of  these  ravenous  grubs  may 
then  be  found  gnawing  at  the  roots  of  the  young  turnips,  and 
even  biting  off  their  extremities.  They  also  frequently  attack  the 
stalk,  bite  it  across,  and  when  the  stems  fall,  attack  the  leaves. 
This  is,  however,  one  of  the  least  formidable  of  the  robberies  of 
this  persevering  pest,  and  if  the  wireworms  were  satisfied  with  the 
leaves  alone,  they  would  not  be  so  injurious. 

We  should  possess  some  acquaintance  with  the  natural  history  of 
such  animals  as  we  desire  to  destroy.  Such  knowledge  facilitates 
our  operations,  by  informing  us  of  their  haunts  and  habits,  of  their 
dispositions  and  predilections,  and,  consequently,  not  only  of  where 
we  are  to  seek  for  the  pests,  but  of  how  we  can  best  set  to  work 
to  accomplish  their  destruction.  Recollect,  I may  remark,  in  pass- 
ing that  the  beetles,  whence  the  wireworms  are  produced,  are, 
although  not  necessarily  mischievous  themselves,  to  be  regarded  as 
the  grand  source  of  your  annoyances.  Let  it  be  your  care,  there- 
fore, to  have  these  caught  and  destroyed ; they  will  be  chiefly 
found,  during  spring  and  summer,  upon  nettles,  hemlock,  fools’ 
parsley,  and  other  such  herbs.  Let  this  be  one  of  your  cares. 

The  eggs  are  chiefly  deposited  in  pastures  where  the  surface  has 
been  undisturbed,  and  in  clov.er  layers  and  fallows.  Where,  there- 
fore, they  make  their  appearance,  you  will  find  it  a good  plan  to 
have  your  pasture  eaten  close  by  sheep.  Rolling , in  early  spring,  is 
also  recommended,  and  is,  in  my  opinion,  very  likely  to  prove  ser- 
viceable, having  been  preceded  by  a top-dressing  of  lime.  I re- 
commend a top-dressing  of  lime,  salt,  and  soot.  The  proportions 
recommended  are  as  follows  : — Lime,  2 parts  ; soot,  3 parts  ; salt, 
1 part.  The  salt  may  be  purchased  from  salt  works,  or  extensive 
dealers  in  that  article,  as  spoiled  salt — there  being  accidents  which 
will  render  it  unfit  for  market  as  salt,  without  at  all  militating  against 
its  value  as  majnure,  or  a top-dressing.  The  lime  should  be  quick- 
lime pounded,  anc  the  mixVire  should  be  applied  to  the  land  as 


80 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


speedily  as  possible  after  having  been  compounded  : be  it  also  re- 
membered that  this  composition  will  be  found  a valuable  fertilizer, 
as  well  as  a foe  to  insects  of  all  sorts.  Woad,  sweet  gale,  the  re- 
fuse of  gas-works,  spirits  of  tar,  chloride  of  lime,  nitrate  of  soda, 
mixed  with  the  manure,  will  be  found  very  serviceable ; at  all 
events,  effecting  a sensible  diminution  in  the  numbers  of  the  wire- 
worm,  and  of  course  a diminution  of  their  ravages  in  an  equal 
ratio. 

The  wireworm  is  found  in  great  numbers,  generally  on  newly 
cultivated  grounds,  or  meadows,  which  have  been  long  in  repose ; 
they  can  be  conquered,  and  should  not  be  suffered  to  revel  on  the 
plants  of  industrious  farmers.  Exposure  to  the  frosts  of  winter 
will  destroy  them ; therefore,  autumn  plowing  is  essential ; and 
the  course  or  remedy  suggested  to  destroy  the  cutworm,  is  equally 
effective  on  the  wirewQrm. 

It  has  been  tried  to  destroy  the  wireworm  by  flooding , but  this 
is  only  a useless  attempt,  it  being  almost  impossible  to  drown  this 
creature,  which  will  be  found  as  lively  as  ever  after  a total  immer- 
sion for  three,  or  even  four,  days ; still,  however,  such  flooding, 
though  it  will  not  destroy  the  worms,  interferes  with  the  laying  of 
the  beetles  which  produce  them,  and  will  consequently,  in  this 
point  of  view,  be  occasionally  found  useful. 

Soda  has  been  used  with  success.  I have  known  soda  tried  by 
practical  men,  who  were  most  unwilling,  unless  actually  coerced 
into  it,  to  listen  to  any  novelty,  and  they  have  unanimously  asserted 
the  success  of  their  experiments  with  soda. 

Let  frogs  and  toads  be  encouraged  on  your  lands ; their  entire 
food  consists  of  insects , of  such  creatures  as  you  are  most  anxious 
to  destroy.  Call  them  in,  therefore,  to  your  assistance — protect 
them,  regard  them  as  your  friends  and  laborers,  and  they  wTill  aid 
you  most  extensively.  The  robin,  blackbird,  wagtail,  thrush,  to- 
gether with  poultry,  and  crows,  &c.,  feed  on  these  insects. 

Iules. — In  various  parts  of  the  country  the  iules  is  supposed 
to  be,  and  often  is  called,  the  wireworm ; but  does  not  belong  to 
that  family  ; a sketch  of  the  iules  is  given  to  correct  this  erroneous 
belief.  Each  segment  of  the  body  is  furnished  with  two  pairs  of 
legs,  whereas  the  true  wireworm  has  but  six.  The  iules  also,  when 
disturbed  or  .alarmed,  rolls  itself  into  a coil  which  the  hardness  of 
the  wireworm  will  not  admit  of.  The  iules  is  perfect  in  itself,  and 
is  oviparous ; the  wireworm  is  a larva  and  cannot  produce  ovae 
until  its  transformation  to  the  beetle  or  perfect  state.  The  iules 


INSECTS. 


THE  IULES. 

consumes  vegetable  substances  in  a state  of  decomposition  ; the 
wireworm  subsists  on  living  roots  in  healthful  vigor. 

May-Bugs. — Among  the  tree-beetles  those  commonly  called  dors, 
chafers,  May-bugs,  and  rose-bugs,  are  the  most  interesting  to  the 
farmer  and  gardener,  on  account  of  their  extensive  ravages,  both 
in  the  winged  and  larva  states.  Besides  the  leaves  of  fruit-trees, 
they  devour  those  of  various  forest-trees  and  shrubs,  with  an  avidity 
not  much  less  than  that  of  the  locust,  so  that,  in  certain  seasons, 
and  in  particular  districts,  they  become  an  oppressive  scourge,  and 
the  source  of  much  misery  to  the  inhabitants. 

The  May-beetle  is  our  common  species.  It  is  of  a chestnut- 
brown  color,  smooth,  but  finely  punctured,  that  is,  covered  with 
little  impressed  dots,  as  if  pricked  with  the  point  of  a needle ; each 
wing-case  has  two  or  three  slightly  elevated  longitudinal  lines  ; the 
breast  is  clothed  with  yellowish  down.  The  knob  of  its  antennae 
contains  only  three  leaf-like  joints.  Its  average  length  is  nine-tenths 
of  an  inch.  In  its  perfect  state  it  feeds  on  the  leaves  of  trees,  par- 
ticularly on  those  of  the  cherry  tree.  It  flies  with  a humming 
noise  in  the  night,  from  the  middle  of  May  to  the  end  of  June,  and 
frequently  enters  houses,  attracted  by  the  light.  In  the  course  of 
the  spring,  these  beetles  are  often  thrown  from  the  earth  by  the 
spade  and  plow,  in  various  states  of  maturity,  some  being  soft 
and  nearly  white,  their  superabundant  juices  not  having  evaporated, 
while  others  exhibit  the  true  color  and  texture  of  the  perfect  insect. 
The  grubs  devour  the  roots  of  grass  and  of  other  plants,  and  in 
many  places  the  turf  may  be  turned  up  like  a carpet  in  consequence 
of  the  destruction  of  the  roots.  The  grub  is  a white  worm  with  a 
brownish  head,  and,  when  fully  grown,  is  nearly  as  thick  as  the 
little  finger.  It  is  eaten  greedily  by  crows  and  fowls.  The  beetles 
are  devoured  by  the  skunk,  wrhose  beneficial  foraging  is  detected  in 


82 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


our  gardens  by  its  abundant  excrement  filled  with  the  wing-cases 
of  these  insects.  The  beetles  may  be  effectually  exterminated  by 
shaking  them  from  the  trees  every  ever  ing.  The  best  time,  how- 
ever, for  shaking  trees  on  which  the  May-beetles  are  lodged,  is  in 
the  morning,  when  the  insects  do  not  attempt  to  fly.  They  are 
most  easily  collected  in  a cloth  spread  under  the  trees  to  receive 
them  when  they  fall,  after  which,  they  should  be  thrown  into  boiling 
water,  to  kill  them,  and  may  then  be  given  as  food  to  swine. 


MAY-BUG. 


The  familiar  cock  chafer,  or  May-bug,  is  the  parent  of  the 
grub,  which  is  abundant  in  all  pastures  or  grass  fields,  especially 
in  soft  vegetable  soils.  The  grub"  is  a destructive  creature,  continu- 
ing its  devastations  for  a period  of  three  summers  before  its  trans- 
formation. The  roots  of  all  grasses  and  grains  are  acceptable,  but 
the  roots  of  Indian  corn  furnish  a feast  from  which  they  will  not 
turn,  until  disturbed  by  the  crow,  who  is  too  often  unfairly  abused 
for  mischief  unknown  to  him. 

Rose  Bugs. — For  some  time  after  they  were  first  noticed,  rose- 
bugs  appeared  to  be  confined  to  their  favorite,  the  blossoms  of  the 
rose  ; but  within  thirty  years  they  have  prodigiously  increased  in 
number,  have  attacked  at  random  various  kinds  of  plants  in  swarms, 
and  have  become  notorious  for  their  extensive  and  deplorable  rava- 
ges. The  grape-vine  in  particular,  the  cherry,  plum,  and  apple 
trees,  have  annually  suffered  by  their  depredations ; many  other 
fruit-trees  and  shrubs,  garden  vegetables  and  corn,  and  even  the 
trees  of  the  forest  and  the  grass  of  the  fields,  have  been  laid  under 
contribution  by  these  indiscriminate  feeders,  by  whom  leaves,  flow- 
ers, and  fruits  are  alike  consumed.  They  come  forth  from  the 
ground  during  the  second  week  in  June,  and  remain  from  thirty  to 
forty  days.  At  the  end  of  this  period  the  males  become  exhausted, 
fall  to  the  ground,  and  perish,  while  the  females  enter  the  earth, 
lay  their  eggs,  return  to  the  surface,  and,  after  lingering  a few  days, 
die  also.  The  eggs  laid  by  each  female  are  about  thirty  in  num- 
ber, and  are  deposited  from  one  to  four  inches  beneath  the  surface 


INSECTS. 


83 


of  the  soil ; they  are  nearly  globular,  whitish  and  about  one  thir- 
tieth of  an  inch  in  diameter,  and  are  hatched  twenty  ( ays  after 
they  are  laid.  The  young  larvae  begin  to  feed  on  such  tender  roots 
as  are  within  their  reach.  When  not  eating,  they  lie  upon  the 
side,  with  the  body  curved  so  that  the  head  and  tail  are  nearly  in 
contact ; they  move  with  difficulty  on  a level  surface,  and  are  con- 
tinually falling  over  on  one  side  or  the  other.  They  attain  tlieir 
full  size  in  the  autumn,  being  then  three-quarters  of  an  inch  long, 
and  about  an  eighth  of  an  inch  in  diameter.  They  are  of  a yel- 
lowish white  color,  with  a tinge  of  blue  towards  the  hinder  ex- 
tremity, which  is  thick  and  obtuse  or  rounded  ; a few  short  hairs 
are  scattered  on  the  surface  of  the  body  ; there  are  six  short  legs, 
namely  a pair  to  each  of  the  first  three  rings  behind  the  head ; and 
the  latter  is  covered  with  a horny  shell  of  a pale  rust  color.  In 
October  they  descend  below  the  reach  of  frost,  and  pass  the  winter 
in  a torpid  state.  In  the  spring  they  approach  towards  the  surface, 
and  each  one  forms  for  itself  a little  cell  of  an  oval  shape,  by  turn- 
ing round  a great  many  times,  so  as  to  compress  the  earth  and 
render  the  inside  of  the  cavity  hard  and  smooth.  Within  this  cell 
the  grub  is  transformed  to  a pupa,  during  the  month  of  May,  by 
casting  off  its  skin,  which  is  pushed  downwards  in  folds  from  the 
head  to  the  tail.  The  pupa  has  somewhat  the  form  of  the  perfected 
beetle  ; but  it  is  of  a yellowish  white  color,  and  its  short  stump-like 
wings,  its  antennae,  and  its  legs  are  folded  upon  the  breast,  and  its 
whole  body  is  enclosed  in  a thin  film,  that  wraps  each  part  sepa- 
rately. During  the  month  of  June  this  filmy  skin  is  rent,  the  in- 
cluded beetle  withdraws  from  it  its  body  and  its  limbs,  bursts  open 
its  earthen  cell,  and  digs  its  way  to  the  surface  of  the  ground.  Thus 
the  various  changes,  from  the  egg  to  the  full  development  of  the 
perfected  beetle,  are  completed  within  the  space  of  one  year. 

Such  being  the  metamorphoses  and  habits  of  these  insects,  it  is 
evident  that  we  cannot  attack  them  in  the  egg,  the  grub,  or  the 
pupa  state;  the  enemy,  in  these  stages,  is  beyond  our  reach. 
When  they  appear  as  bugs  they  must  be  crushed,  scalded,  or 
burned,  to  deprive  them  of  life,  for  they  are  not  affected  by  any  of 
the  applications  usually  found  destructive  to  other  insects.  Expe- 
rience has  proved  the  utility  of  gathering  them  by  hand,  or  of  sha- 
king them  or  brushing  them  from  the  plants  into  tin  vessels  con- 
taining a little  water.  They  should  be  collected  daily  during  the 
period  of  their  visitation,  and  should  be  committed  to  the  flames, 
or  killed  by  scalding  water. 


84 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


Our  insect-eating  birds  undoubtedly  devour  many  of  these  in- 
sects, and  deserve  to  be  cherished  and  protected  for  their  services. 
Rose-bugs  are  also  eaten  greedily  by  domesticated  fowls ; and  when 
they  become  exhausted  and  fall  to  the  ground,  or  when  they  are 
about  to  lay  their  eggs,  they  are  destroyed  by  moles,  insects,  and 
other  animals,  which  lie  in  wait  to  seize  them. 

Pea  Bug. — In  the  spring  of  the  year  we  often  find,  among  seed- 
pease,  many  that  have  holes  in  them  ; and,  if  the  pease  have  not 
been  exposed  to  the  light  and  air,  we  see  a little  insect  peeping 
out  of  each  of  these  holes,  and  waiting  apparently  for  an  opportu- 
nity to  come  forth  and  make  its  escape.  If  we  turn  out  the  crea- 
ture from  its  cell,  we  perceive  it  to  be  a small  oval  beetle,  rather 
more  than  one-tenth  of  an  inch  long,  of  a rusty  black  color,  with  a 
white  spot  on  the  hinder  part  of  the  thorax,  four  or  five  white  dots 
behind  the  middle  of  each  wing-cover,  and  a white  spot,  shaped 
like  the  letter  T,  on  the  exposed  extremity  of  the  body.  This  little 
insect  is  the  Bruchus  Pm  of  Linnaeus,  the  pea-Bruchus,  or  pea-wee- 
vil, but  is  better  known  in  America  by  the  incorrect  name  of  pea- 
bug.  The  original  meaning  of  the  word  Bruchus  is  a devourer, 
and  the  insects  to  which  it  is  applied  well  deserve  this  name,  for, 
in  the  larva  state,  they  devour  the  interior  of  ^eeds,  often  leaving 
but  little  more  than  the  hull  untouched.  The  body  is  oval,  and 
slightly  convex  ; the  head  is  bent  downwards,  so  that  the  broad 
muzzle,  when  the  insects  are  not  eating,  rests  upon  the  breast ; the 
antennae  are  short,  straight,  and  saw-toothed  within,  and  are  in- 
serted close  to  a deep  notch  in  each  of  the  eyes ; the  feelers,  though 
very  small,  are  visible ; the  wing-cases  do  not  cover  the  end  of  the 
abdomen;  and  the  hindmost  thighs  are  very  thick,  and  often 
notched  or  toothed  on  the  under-side,  as  is  the  case  in  the  pea-wee- 
vil. These  beetles  frequent  the  leguminous  or  pod-bearing  plants, 
such  as  the  pea,  during  and  immediately  after  the  flowering  season  ; 
they  pierce  the  tender  pods  of  these  plants,  and  commonly  lay  only 
one  egg  in  each  seed,  the  pulp  of  which  suffices  for  the  food  of  the 
little  maggot-like  grub  hatched  therein. 

When  the  pods  are  carefully  examined,  small,  discolored  spots 
may  be  seen  within  them,  each  one  corresponding  to  a similar  spot 
on  the  opposite  pea.  If  this  spot  in  the  pea  be  opened,  a minute 
whitish  grub,  destitute  of  feet,  will  be  found  therein.  It  is  the 
weevil  in  its  larva  form,  which  lives  upon  the  marrow  of  the  pea, 
and  arrives  at  its  full  size  by  the  time  that  the  pea  becomes  dry. 
This  larva  or  grub  then  bores  a round  hole  from  the  hcllow  in  tL 


INSECTS. 


85 


centre  of  the  pea  quite  to  the  hull,  but  leaves  the  latter  anti  gene- 
rally the  germ  of  the  future  sprout  untouched.  Hence  these  buggy 
pease,  as  they  are  called  by  seedsmen  and  gardeners,  will  frequently 
sprout  ai'd  grow  when  planted.  The  grub  is  changed  to  a pupa 
within  its  hole  in  the  pea  in  the  autumn,  and  before  the  spring 
casts  its  skin  again,  becomes  a beetle,  and  gnaws  a hole  through 
the  thin  hull  in  order  to  make  its  escape  into  the  air,  which  fre- 
quently does  not  happen  before  the  pease  are  planted  for  an  early 
crop.  * After  the  pea-vines  have  flowered,  and  while  the  pods  are 
young  and  tender,  and  the  pease  within  them  are  just  beginning  to 
swell,  the  beetles  gather  upon  them,  pierce  the  pods,  and  deposit 
their  tiny  eggs  in  the  punctures.  This  is  done  only  during  the 
night,  or  in  cloudy  weather.  Each  egg  is  always  placed  opposite 
to  a pea ; the  grubs,  as  soon  as  they  are  hatched,  penetrate  the 
pod  and  bury  themselves  in  the  pease ; and  the  holes  through 
which  they  pass  are  so  fine  as  hardly  to  be  perceived,  and  are  soon 
closed.  Sometimes  every  pea  in  a pod  will  be  found  to  contain  a 
weevil  grub ; and  so  great  has  been  the  injury  to  the  crop  in  some 
parts  of  the  country  that  the  inhabitants  have  been  obliged  to  give 
up  the  cultivation  of  this  vegetable.  These  insects  diminish  the 
weight  of  the  pease  in  which  they  lodge,  nearly  one-half,  and  their 
leavings  are  fit  only  for  the  food  of  swine.  This  occasions  a great 
loss,  where  pease  are  raised  for  feeding  stock  or  for  family  use,  as 
they  are  in  many  places.  Those  persons,  who  eat  whole  pease  in 
the  winter  after  they  are  raised,  run  the  risk  of  eating  the  weevils 
also ; but  if  the  pease  are  kept  till  they  are  a year  old,  the  insects 
will  entirely  leave  them. 

One  remedy  consists  merely  in  keeping  seed-pease  in  tight  ves- 
sels over  one  year  before  planting  them,  or  putting  them,  just  be- 
fore they  are  t,o  be  planted,  into  hot  water  for  a minute  or  two,  by 
which  means  the  weevils  will  be  killed,  and  the  sprouting  of  the 
pease  will  be  quickened.  The  insect  is  limited  to  a certain  period 
for  depositing  its  eggs ; late  sown  pease  therefore  escape  its  attacks. 
Those  sown  in  Pennsylvania  as  late  as  the  twentieth  of  May,  are 
entirely  free  from  weevils. 

The  Apple-Worm. — Among  the  insects,  that  have  been  brought 
to  America  with  other  productions  of  Europe,  may  be  mentioned 
the  apple-worm,  as  it  is  here  called,  which  has  become  naturalizeo 
wherever  the  apple-tree  has  been  introduced.  This  mischievous 
creature  has  sometimes  been  mistaken  for  the  plum-weevil  ( Ehyn - 
charm?  Conotrache.lus  Nenuphar ),  but  it  may  be  easily  distinguished 


8G 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


therefrom  b)  its  shape,  its  habits,  and  its  transformations.  Although 
the  plum-weevil  prefers  stone  fruit,  it  is  sometimes  found  in  applet 
also.  On  the  other  Land,  the  apple-worm  has  never  been  found 
here  in  plums.  It  is  not  a grub,  but  a true  caterpillar,  belonging 
to  the  Tortrix  tribe,  and  in  due  time,  is  changed  to  a moth,  called 
Carpocapsa  Pomonella,  the  codling-moth,  or  fruit-moth  of  the 
apple.  This  moth  is  the  most  beautiful  of  the  beautiful  tribe  to 
which  it  belongs  ; yet,  from  its  habits  not  being  known,  it  is  seldom 
seen  in  the  moth  state  ; and  the  apple-grower  knows  no  more  than 
the  man  in  the  moon  to  what  cause  he  is  indebted  for  his  worm- 
eaten  windfalls  in  the  stillest  weather. 


APPLE-MOTH. 


At  various  times,  between  the  middle  of  June  and  the  first  ot 
July,  the  apple-worm  moths  may  be  found.  They  are  sometimes 
seen  in  houses  in  the  evening,  trying  to  get  through  the  windows 
into  the  open  air,  having  been  brought  in  with  fruit  while  they  were 
in  the  caterpillar  state.  Their  fore-wings,  when  seen  at  a distance, 
have  somewhat  the  appearance  of  brown  watered  silk ; when  close- 
ly examined  they  will  be  found  to  be  crossed  by  numerous  gray 
and  brown  lines,  scalloped  like  the  plumage  of  a bird  ; and  near 
the  hind  angle  there  is  a large,  oval,  dark  brown  spot,  the  edges  of 
which  are  of  a bright  copper  color.  The  head  and  thorax  are  brown 
mingled  with  gray ; and  the  hind-wings  and  abdomen  are  light 
yellowish  brown,  with  the  lustre  of  satin.  Its  wings  expand  three 
quarters  of  an  inch.  This  insect  is  readily  distinguished  from  other 
moths  by  the  large,  oval,  brown  spot,  edged  with  copper  color,  on 
the  hinder  margin  of  ea  h of  the  fore-wings.  During  the  latter 


INSECTS. 


87 


part  of  June  and  the  month  of  July,  these  fruit-moths  fly  about 
apple  trees  every  evening,  and  lay  their  eggs  on  the  young  fruit. 
They  do  not  puncture  the  apples,  but  they  drop  their  eggs,  one  by 
one,  in  the  eye  or  hollow  at  the  blossom-end  of  the  fruit,  where  the 
skin  is  most  tender.  They  seem  also  to  seek  for  early  fruit  rather 
than  for  the  late  kinds,  which  we  find  are  not  so  apt  to  be  wormy 
as  the  thin-skinned  summer  appies.  The  eggs  begin  to  hatch  in  a 
few  days  after  they  are  laid,  and  the  little  apple-worms  or  cater- 
pillars produced  from  them  immediately  burrow  into  the  apples, 
making  their  way  gradually  from  the  eye  towards  the  core.  Com- 
monly only  one  worm  will  be  found  in  the  same  apple ; and  it  is 
so  small  at  first,  that  its  presence  can  only  be  detected  by  the 
brownish  powder  it  throws  out  in  eating  its  way  through  the  eye. 
The  body  of  the  young  insect  is  of  a whitish  color ; its  head  is 
heart-shaped  and  black ; the  top  of  the  first  ring  or  collar  and  of 
the  last  ring  is  also  black ; and  there  are  eight  little  blackish  dots 
or  warts,  arranged  in  pairs,  on  each  of  the  other  rings.  As  it  grows 
older  its  body  becomes  flesh-colored ; its  head,  the  collar,  and  the 
top  of  the  last  wing,  turn  brown,  and  the  dots  are  no  longer  to  be 
seen.  In  the  course  of  three  weeks,  or  a little  more,  it  comes  to  its 
full  size,  and  meanwhile  has  burrowed  to  the  core  and  through  the 
apple  in  various  directions.  To  get  rid  of  the  refuse  fragments  of 
its  food,  it  gnaws  a round  hole  through  the  side  of  the  apple,  and 
thrusts  them  out  of  the  opening.  Through  this  hole  also  the  in- 
sect makes  its  escape  after  the  apple  falls  to  the  ground  ; and  the 
falling  of  the  fruit  is  well  known  to  be  hastened  by  the  injury  it 
has  received  within,  which  generally  causes  it  to  ripen  before  its 
time. 

Soon  after  the  half-grown  apples  drop,  and  sometimes  while  they 
are  still  hanging,  the  worms  leave  them  and  creep  into  chinks  in 
the  bark  of  the  trees  or  into  other  sheltered  places,  which  they  hol- 
low out  with  their  teeth  to  suit  their  shape.  Here  each  one  spins 
for  itself  a cocoon  or  silken  case,  as  thin,  delicate,  and  white  as  tis- 
sue paper.  Most  of  the  insects  remain  in  their  cocoons  through 
the  winter,  and  are  not  changed  to  moths  till  the  following  summer. 
The  chrysalis  is  of  a bright  mahogany-brown  color,  and  has,  as 
usual,  across  each  of  the  rings  of  its  hind  body,  two  rows  of  prickles, 
by  the  help  of  which  it  forces  its  way  through  the  cocoon  before 
the  moth  comes  forth. 

As  the  apple-worms  instinctively  leave  the  fruit  soon  after  it  falls 
from  the  trees,  it  will  be  proper  to  gather  up  all  wind-fallen  apples 


88 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


daily,  and  make  such  immediate  use  of  them  as  will  be  sure  to  kill 
the  insects,  before  they  have  time  to  escape.  If  any  old  cloth  is 
wound  around  or  hung  in  the  crotches  of  the  trees,  the  apple- worms 
will  conceal  themselves  therein  ; and  by  this  means  thousands  of 
them  may  be  obtained  and  destroyed,  from  the  time  when  they  first 
begin  to  leave  the  apples,  until  the  fruit  is  gathered.  By  carefully 
scraping  off  the  loose  and  rugged  bark  of  the  trees,  in  the  spring, 
many  chrysalids  will  be  destroyed  ; and  it  has  been  said  that  the 
moths,  when  about  laying  their  eggs,  may  be  smothered  or  driven 
away,  by  the  smoke  of  weeds  burned  under  the  trees.  The  worms, 
often  found  in  summer  pears,  appear  to  be  the  same  as  those  that 
affect  apples,  and  are  to  be  kept  in  check  by  the  same  means. 


( 


Apple  Tree  Borers. — The  borers  of  the  apple  tree  have  become 
notorious  for  their  extensive  ravages.  They  are  the  larvae  of  a 
beetle  called  Saperda  bivittata , the  two-striped,  or  the  brown  and 
white  striped  Saperda ; the  upper  side  of  its  body  being  marked 
with  two  longitudinal  white  stripes  between  three  of  a light  brown 
color,  while  the  face,  the  antennae,  the  under-side  of  the  body,  and 
the  legs,  are  white.  This  beetle  varies  in  length  from  a little  more 
than  one-half  to  three-quarters  of  an  inch.  It  comes  forth  from  the 
trunks  of  the  trees,  in  its  perfected  state,  early  in  June,  making  its 
escape  in  the  night,  during  which  time  only  it  uses  its  ample  wings 
in  going  from  tree  to  tree  in  search  of  companions  and  food.  In 
the  day-time  it  keeps  at  rest  among  the  leaves  of  the  plants  which 
it  devours.  Among  the  trees  and  shrubs  attacked  by  this  borer, 
are  the  apple  tree,  the  quince,  mountain-ash,  hawthorn,  and  other 
thorn  bushes.  In  June  and  July  the  eggs  are  deposited,  being  laid 
upon  the  bark  near  the  root,  during  the  night.  The  larvae  are 
fleshy  whitish  grubs,  nearly  cylindrical,  and  tapering  a little  from 
the  first  ring  to  the  end  of  the  body.  The  head  is  small,  horny, 
and  brown ; the  first  ring  is  much  larger  than  the  others,  the  next 


INSECTS. 


89 


two  are  very  short,  and,  with  the  first,  are  covered  with  punctures 
and  very  minute  hairs;  the  following  rings,  to  the  tenth  inclusive, 
are  each  furnished,  on  the  upper  and  under  side,  with  two  fleshy 
warts  situated  close  together,  and  destitute  of  the  little  rasp-like 
teeth,  that  are  usually  found  on  the  grubs  of  the  other  Capricorn- 
beetles  ; the  eleventh  and  twelfth  rings  are  very  short ; no  appear- 
ance of  legs  can  be  seen,  even  with  a magnifying  glass  of  high 
power.  The  grub,  with  its  strong  jaws,  cuts  a cylindrical  passage 
through  the  bark,  and  pushes  its  castings  backwards  out  of  the  hole 
from  time  to  time,  while  it  bores  upwards  into  the  wood.  The 
larva  state  continues  two  or  three  years,  during  which  the  borer 
will  be  found  to  have  penetrated  eight  or  ten  inches  upwards  in 
the  trunk  of  the  tree,  its  burrow  at  the  end  approaching  to,  and 
being  covered  only  by,  the  bark.  Here  its  transformation  takes 
place.  The  final  change  occurs  about  the  first,  of  June,  soon  after 
which,  the  beetle  gnaws  through  the  bark  that  covers  the  end  of  its 
burrow,  and  comes  out  of  its  place  of  confinement  in  the  night. 
Killing  it  by  a wire  thrust  into  the  holes  it  has  made,  is  one  of  the 
oldest,  safest,  and  most  successful  methods.  Cutting  out  the  grub, 
with  a knife  or  gouge,  is  the  most  common  practice  ; but  it  is 
feared  that  these  tools  have  sometimes  been  used  without  sufficient 
caution.  A third  method,  which  has  more  than  once  been  sug- 
gested, consists  in  plugging  the  holes  with  soft  wood.  If  a little 
camphor  be  previously  inserted,  this  practice  promises  to  be  more 
effectual ; but  experiments  are  wanting  to  confirm  its  expediency. 

Turnip  Fly  or  Beetle. — The  wavy-striped  flea-beetle,  Haltica 
striolata , may  be  seen  in  great  abundance  on  the  horse-radish,  va- 
rious kinds  of  cresses,  and  on  the  mustard,  and  turnip,  early  in 
May,  and  indeed  at  other  times  throughout  the  summer.  It  is  very 
injurious  to  young  plants,  destroying  their  seed-leaves  as  soon  as 
the  latter  expand.  Should  it  multiply  to  any  extent,  it  may,  in 
time,  become  as  great  a pest  as  the  European  turnip  flea-beetle, 
which  it  closely  resembles  in  its  appearance,  and.  in  all  its  habits. 
It  is  considerably  less  than  one-tenth  of  an  inch  in  length.  It  is 
of  a polished  black  color,  with  a broad  wavy  buff-colored  stripe  on 
each  wing-cover,  and  the  knees  and  feet  are  reddish  yellow.  Spe- 
cimens are  sometimes  found  having  two  buff-yellow  spots  on  each 
wing-cover  instead  of  the  wavy  stripe. 

In  England,  where  the  ravages  of  the  turnip  flea-beetle  have  at- 
tracted great  attention,  and  have  caused  many  and  various  experi- 
ments to  b > tried  with  a view  of  checking  them,  it  is  thought  that 


90 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


“ the  careful  and  systematic  use  of  lime  will  obviate,  in  a great  de- 
gree, the  danger  which  has  been  experienced  ” from  this  insect 
From  this  and  other  statements  in  favor  of  the  use  of  lime,  there  is 
good  reason  to  hope  that  it  will  effectually  protect  plants  from  the 
various  kinds  of  flea-beetles,  if  dusted  over  them,  when  wet  with 
dew,  in  proper  season.  Watering  plants  with  alkaline  solutions,  it 
is  said,  will  kill  the  insects  without  injuring  the  plants.  The  solu- 
tion may  be  made  by  dissolving  one  pound  of  hard  soap  in  twelve 
gallons  of  the  soap-suds  left  after  washing.  This  mixture  should 
be  applied  twice  a day  with  a water-pot.  Kollar  very  highly  rec- 
ommends watering  or  wetting  the  leaves  of  plants  with  an  infusion 
or  tea  of  wormwood,  which  prevents  the  flea-beetles  from  touching 
them.  Perhaps  a decoction  of  walnut-leaves  might  be  equally  ser- 
viceable. Great  numbers  of  the  beetles  may  be  caught  by  the  skil- 
ful use  of  a deep  bag-net  of  muslin,  which  should  be  swept  over  the 
plants  infested  by  the  beetles,  after  which  the  latter  may  be  easily 
destroyed.  This  net  cannot  be  used  with  safety  to  catch  the  in- 
sects on  very  young  plants,  on  account  of  the  risk  of  bruising  or 
breaking  their  tender  leaves. 

Potato  Fly. — Occasionally  potato-vines  are  very  much  infested 
by  two  or  three  kinds  of  Cantharides,  or  blistering  flies,  swarms 
of  wThich  attack  and  destroy  the  leaves  during  midsummer.  One 
of  these  kinds  has  thereby  obtained  the  name  of  the  potato-fly.  It 
is  the  Cantharis  vittata , or  striped  Cantharis.  It  is  of  a dull  tawny 
yellow  or  light  yellowish  red  color  above,  with  two  black  spots  on 
the  head,  and  two  black  stripes  on  the  thorax  and  on  each  of  the 
wing-covers.  The  under-side  of  the  body,  the  legs,  and  the  an- 
tennae are  black,  and  covered  with  a grayish  down.  Its  length  is 
from  five  to  six  tenths  of  an  inch.  The  thorax  is  very  much  nar- 
rowed before,  and  the  wing-covers  are  long  and  narrow,  and  cover 
the  whole  of  the  back.  The  striped  Cantharis  is  comparatively  rare 
in  New  England  ; but  in  the  Middle  States  it  often  appears  in  great 
numbers,  and  does  much  mischief  in  potato-fields  and  gardens,  eat- 
ing up  not  only  the  leaves  of  the  potato,  but  those  of  many  other 
vegetables. 

Another  kind  of  blistering  fly  is  the  ash-colored  Cantharis. 
When  the  insect  is  rubbed,  the  ash-colored  substance  comes  off, 
leaving  the  surface  black.  It  begins  to  appear  in  gardens  about 
the  twentieth  of  June,  and  is  very  fond  of  the  leaves  of  the  English 
bean,  which  it  sometimes  entirely  destroys.  It  is  also  occasionally 
found  in  considerable  numbers  on  potato-vines  ; and  it  has  repeat- 


IK  SECTS. 


91 


edly  appeared  in  great  profusion  upon  the  honey-locust,  which  has 
been  entirely  stripped  of  foliage  by  these  voracious  insects.  In  the 
night,  and  in  rainy  weather,  they  descend  from  the  plants,  and 
burrow  in  the  ground,  or  under  leaves  and  tufts  of  grass.  Thither 
also  they  retire  for  shelter  during  the  heat  of  the  day,  being  most 
actively  engaged  in  eating  in  the  morning  and  evening.  About 
the  first  of  August  they  go  into  the  ground  and  lay  their  eggs,  and 
these  are  hatched  in  the  course  of  one  month.  The  larvae  are  slen- 
der, somewhat  flattened  grubs,  of  a yellowish  color,  banded  with 
black,  with  a small  reddish  head,  and  six  legs.  These  grubs  are 
very  active  in  their  motions,  and  appear  to  live  upon  fine  roots  in 
the  ground. 

About  the  middle  of  August,  and  during  the  rest  of  this  and  the 
following  month,  a jet-black  Cantharis  may  be  seen  on  potato- 
vines,  and  also  on  the  blossoms  and  leaves  of  various  kinds  of 
golden-rod,  particularly  the  tall  golden-rod  ( Solidago  altissima ), 
which  seems  to  be  its  favorite  food.  In  some  places  it  is  as  plen- 
tiful in  potato  fields  as  the  striped  and  the  margined  Cantharis, 
and  by  its  serious  ravages  has  often  excited  attention.  These  three 
kinds,  in  fact,  are  often  confounded  under  the  common  name  of  po- 
tato-flies. These  insects  are  taken,  in  considerable  quantities,  by 
brushing  or  shaking  them  from  the  potato-vines  into  a broad  tin 
pan,  from  which  they  are  emptied  into  a covered  pail  containing 
a little  water  in  it,  which,  by  wetting  their  wings,  prevents  their 
flying  out  when  the  pail  is  uncovered.  The  same  method  may 
be  employed  for  taking  the  other  kinds  of  Cantharides,  when  they 
become  troublesome  and  destructive  from  their  numbers ; or  they 
may  be  caught  by  gently  sweeping  the  plants  they  frequent  with  a 
deep  muslin  bag-net.  They  should  be  killed  by  throwing  them 
into  scalding  water,  for  one  or  two  minutes,  after  which  they  may 
be  spread  out  on  sheets  of  paper  to  dry,  and  may  be  made  profit- 
able by  selling  them  to  the  apothecaries  for  medical  use. 

Grasshoppers  and  Locusts. — Most  grasshoppers  are  of  a green 
color,  and  are  furnished  with  wings  and  wing-covers,  the  latter  fre- 
quently resembling  the  leaves  of  trees,  upon  which,  indeed,  many 
of  these  insects  pass  the  greater  part  of  their  lives.  Their  leaf-like 
form  and  green  color  evidently  seem  to  have  been  designed  for  the 
better  concealment  of  these  insects.  They  commit  their  eggs  to 
the  earth,  dropping  them  into  holes  made  for  this  purpose  by  their 
piercers.  They  lay  a large  number  of  eggs  at  a time,  and  cover 
them  with  a kind  of  varnish,  which,  when  dry,  forms  a thin  film 


92 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


that  completely  encloses  them.  Their  egg’s  are  laid  in  the  au  umn, 
and  usually  arc  not  hatched  till  the  following  spring.  They  are 
nocturnal  insects,  or  at  least  more  active  by  night  than  by  day. 
When  taken  between  the  fingers,  they  emit  from  their  mouths  a 
considerable  quantity  of  dark-colored  fluid,  as  do  also  the  locusts  or 
diurnal  grasshoppers.  They  devour  the  leaves  of  trees,  and  of  other 
plants,  and  lead  a solitary  life,  or  at  least  do  not  associate  and  mi- 
grate from  place  to  place  in  great  swarms,  like  some  of  the  crickets 
and  the  locusts. 

Locusts. — The  various  insects  included  under  the  name  of  locusts 
nearly  all  agree  in  having  their  wing-covers  rather  long  and  narrow, 
and  placed  obliquely  along  the  sides  of  the  body,  meeting,  and  even 
overlapping  for  a short  distance,  at  their  upper  edges,  which  to- 
gether form  a ridge  on  the  back  like  a sloping  roof.  Their  antennae 
are  much  shorter  than  those  of  most  grasshoppers,  and  do  not 
taper  towards  the  end,  but  are  nearly  of  equal  thickness  at  both 
extremities.  Their  feet  have  really  only  three  joints  ; but  as  the 
under-side  of  the  first  joint  is  marked  by  one  or  two  cross  lines, 
the  feet,  when  seen  only  from  below,  seem  to  be  four  or  five  jointed. 

Although  the  ravages  of  locusts  in  America  are  not  followed  by 
such  serious  consequences  as  in  the  Eastern  continent,  yet  they  are 
sufficiently  formidable  to  have  attracted  attention,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  have  these  insects  laid  waste  considerable  tracts,  and  oc- 
casioned no  little  loss  to  the  cultivator  of  the  soil.  Our  salt-marshes, 
which  are  accounted  among  the  most  productive  and  valuable  ot 
our  natural  meadows,  are  frequented  by  great  numbers  of  the  small 
red-legged  species  ( Acrydium  femur-rubrurn),  intermingled  occa- 
sionally with  some  larger  kinds.  These,  in  certain  seasons,  almost 
entirely  consume  the  grass  of  these  marshes,  from  whence  they 
then  take  their  course  to  the  uplands,  devouring,  in  their  way, 
grass,  corn,  and  vegetables,  till  checked  by  the  early  frosts,  or  by 
the  close  of  the  natural  term  of  their  existence.  When  a scanty 
crop  of  Hay  has  been  gathered  from  the  grounds  which  these  puny 
pests  have  ravaged,  it  becomes  so  tainted  with  the  putrescent  bodies 
of  the  dead  locusts  contained  in  it,  that  it  is  rejected  by  horses  and 
cattle.  In  this  country  locusts  are  not  distinguished  from  grass- 
hoppers, and  are  generally,  though  incorrectly,  comprehended  un- 
der the  same  name,  or  under  that  of  flying  grasshoppers.  They 
are,  however,  if  we  make  allowance  for  their  inferior  size,  quite  as 
voracious  and  injurious  to  vegetation  during  the  young  or  larva  and 
pupa  states,  when  they  are  not  provided  wLh  wings,  as  they  are 


INSECTS. 


93 


when  fully  grown.  During  dry  seasons,  they  often  appear  in  great 
multitudes,  and  are  the  greedy  destroyers  of  the  half-parched  her- 
bage. In  many  parts  of  the  United  States  these  locusts  appear  in 
myriads,  and  their  devastations  in  dry  seasons  ,are  horrible.  The 
locusts  may  be  taken  by  means  of  a piece  of  stout  cloth,  carried  by 
four  persons,  two  of  whom  draw  it  rapidly  along,  so  that  the  edge 
may  sweep  over  the  surface  of  the  soil,  and  the  two  others  hold  up 
the  cloth  behind  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees.  This  contrivance 
seems  to  operate  somewhat  like  a horse-rake,  in  gathering  the  in- 
sects into  winrows  or  heaps,  from  which  they  are  speedily  trans 
ferred  to  large  sacks.  When  these  insects  are  very  prevalent,  it 
will  be  advisable  to  mow  the  grass  early,  so  as  to  secure  a crop  be- 
fore it  has  suffered  much  loss.  The  time  for  doing  this  will  be  de- 
termined by  the  period  when  the  most  destructive  species  come  to 
maturity  during  the  latter  part  of  July.  If  then,  the  meadows  are 
mowed  about  the  first  of  July,  the  locusts,  being  at  that  time  small 
and  not  provided  with  wings,  will  be  unable  to  migrate,  and  will 
consequently  perish  on  the  ground  for  the  want  of  food,  while  a 
tolerable  crop  of  hay  will  be  secured,  and  the  marshes  will  suffer 
less  from  the  insects  during  the  following  summer.  This,  like  all 
other  preventive  measures,  must  be  generally  adopted,  in  order  to 
prove  effectual ; for  it  will  avail  a farmer  but  little  to  take  preven- 
tive measures  on  his  own  land,  if  his  neighbors,  who  are  equally 
exposed  and  interested,  neglect  to  do  the  same.  Many  birds  de- 
vour them,  particularly  our  domestic  fowls,  which  eat  great  num- 
bers of  grasshoppers,  locusts,  and  even  crickets.  Young  turkeys,  if 
allowed  to  go  at  large  during  the  summer,  derive  nearly  the  whole 
of  their  subsistence  from  these  insects.  The  great  increase  of  these 
and  other  noxious  insects  may  fairly  be  attributed  to  the  extermi- 
nating war  which  has  wantonly  been  waged  upon  our  insect-eating 
birds,  and  we  may  expect  the  evil  to  increase  unless  these  little 
friends  of  the  farmer  are  protected,  or  left  undisturbed  to  multiply, 
and  follow  their  natural  habits.  Meanwhile,  some  advantage  may 
be  derived  from  encouraging  the  breed  of  our  domestic  fowls.  A 
flock  of  young  chickens  or  turkeys,  if  suffered  to  go  at  large  in  a 
garden,  while  the  mother  is  confined  within  their  sight  and  hear- 
ing, under  a suitable  crate  or  cage,  will  devour  great  numbers  of 
destructive  insects ; and  our  farmers  should  be  urged  to  pay  more 
attention  than  heretofore  to  the  rearing  of  chickens,  young  turkeys, 
and  ducks,  with  a view  to  the  benefits  to  be  derived  from  their  de- 
struction of  insects. 


I 


91 


TIIE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


Plant  Lice.  —The  Aphidians,  in  which  group  we  include  the 
insects  commonly  known  by  the  name  of  plant-lice,  differ  remark- 
ably from  all  the  foregoing  in  their  appearance,  their  formation,  and 
4heir  manner  of  increase.  Their  bodies  are  very  soft,  and  usually 
more  or  less  oval. 

Aphides , or  plant-lice  as  they  are  usually  called,  are  among  the 
most  extraordinary  of  insects.  They  are  found  upon  almost  all 
parts  of  plants,  the  roots,  stems,  young  shoots,  buds,  and  leaves, 
and  there  is  scarcely  a plant  which  does  not  harbor  one  or  two 
kinds  peculiar  to  itself.  They  are,  moreover,  exceedingly  prolific, 
for  one  individual,  in  five  generations,  may  become  the  progenitor 
of  nearly  six  thousand  millions  of  descendants.  It  often  happens 
that  the  succulent  extremities  and  stems  of  plants  will,  in  an  in- 
credibly short  space  of  time,  become  completely  coated  with  a liv- 
ing mass  of  these  little  lice.  These  are  usually  wingless,  consisting 
of  the  young  and  of  the  females  only ; for  winged  individuals  aj> 
pear  only  at  particular  seasons,  usually  in  the  autumn,  but  some- 
times in  the  spring,  and  these  are  small  males  and  larger  females. 
After  pairing,  the  latter  lay  their  eggs  upon  or  near  the  leaf-buds 
of  the  plant  upon  which  they  live,  and,  together  with  the  males, 
soon  afterwards  perish. 

The  winged  plant-lice  provide  for  a succession  of  their  race  by 
stocking  the  plants  with  eggs  in  the  autumn.  These  are  hatched 
in  due  time  in  the  spring,  and  the  young  lice  immediately  begin  to 
pump  up  sap  from  the  tender  leaves  and  shoots,  increase  rapidly  in 
size,  and  in  a short  time  come  to  maturity.  In  this  state,  it  is  found 
that  the  brdbd,  without  a single  exception,  consists  wholly  of  fe- 
males, which  are  wingless,  but  are  in  a condition  immediately  to 
continue  their  kind.  Their  young,  however,  are  not  hatched  from 
eggs,  but  are  produced  alive,  and  each  female  may  be  the  mother 
of  fifteen  or  twenty  young  lice  in  the  course  of  a single  day.  The 
plant-lice  of  this  second  generation  are  also  wingless  females,  which 
grow  up  and  have  their  young  in  due  time  ; and  thus  brood  after 
brood  is  produced,  even  to  the  seventh  generation  or  more,  without 
the  appearance  or  intervention,  throughout  the  whole  season,  of  a 
single  male.  This  extraordinary  kind  of  propagation  ends  in  the 
autumn  with  the  birth  of  a brood  of  males  and  females,  which  in 
due  time  acquire  wings  and  pair ; eggs  are  then  laid  by  these  fe- 
males, and  with  the  death  of  these  winged  individuals,  which  soon 
follows,  the  racejbecomes  extinct  for  the  season. 

The  peach-tree  suffers  very  much  from  the  attacks  of  plant-ILe* 


INSECTS. 


95 


which  live  under  the  leaves,  causing  them  by  their  punctures  to 
become  thickened,  to  curl,  or  form  hollows  beneath,  and  corre- 
sponding crispy  and  reddish  swellings  above,  and  finally  to  perish 
and  drop  off  prematurely.  The  depredations  of  these  lice  is  one 
of  the  causes,  if  not  the  only  cause  of  the  peculiar  malady  affecting 
the  peach-tree  in  the  early  part  of  summer,  and  called  the  blight. 
Plant-lice  produce  a blight  of  apple-trees  occasionally. 

The  injuries  occasioned  by  plant-lice  are  much  greater  than  would 
at  first  be  expected  from  the  small  size  and  extreme  weakness  of 
the  insects ; but  these  make  up  by  their  numbers  what  they  want 
in  strength  individually,  and  thus  become  formidable  enemies  to 
vegetation.  By  their  punctures,  and  the  quantity  of  sap  which  they 
draw  from  the  leaves,  the  functions  of  these  important  organs  are 
deranged  or  interrupted,  the  food  of  the  plant,  which  is  there  elab- 
orated to  nourish  the  stem  and  mature  the  fruit,  is  withdrawn, 
before  it  can  reach  its  proper  destination,  or  is  contaminated  and 
left  in  a state  unfitted  to  supply  the  wants  of  vegetation.  Plants 
are  differently  affected  by  these  insects.  Some  wither  and  cease 
to  grow,  their  leaves  and  stems  put  on  a sickly  appearance,  and 
soon  die  from  exhaustion.  Others,  though  not  killed,  are  greatly 
impeded  in  their  growth,  and  their  tender  parts,  which  are  attacked, 
become  stunted,  curled,  or  warped.  The  punctures  of  these  lice 
seem  to  poison  some  plants,  and  affect  others  in  a most  singular 
manner,  producing  warts  or  swellings,  which  are  sometimes  solid 
and  sometimes  hollow,  and  contain  in  their  interior  a swarm  of  lice, 
the  descendants  of  a single  individual,  whose  punctures  were  the 
original  cause  of  the  tumor. 

When  trees  are  infected,  scrape  off  all  the  rough  bark  of  the  in- 
fected trees,  and  make  them  perfectly  clean  and  smooth  early  in 
the  spring ; then  rub  the  trunk  and  limbs  with  a stiff  brush  wet 
with  a solution  of  potash  as  hereafter  recommended  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  bark-lice ; after  which  remove  the  sods  and  earth  around 
the  bottom  of  the  trunk,  and  with  the  scraper,  brush,  and  alkaline 
liquor  cleanse  that  part  as  far  as  the  roots  can  conveniently  be  un- 
covered. The  earth  and  sods  should  immediately  be  carried  away, 
fresh  loam  should  be  placed  around  the  roots,  and  all  cracks  and 
wounds  should  be  filled  with  grafting  cement  or  clay  mortar. 
Small  limbs  and  extremities  of  branches,  if  infected,  and  beyond 
reach  of  the  applications,  should  be  cut  off  and  burned. 

This  insect  is  mischievous  and  destructive  to  well  grown  and 
riper  mg  grass  plants ; its  minute  character  has  allowed  it  to  escape- 


96 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


the  notice  of  the  farmers  generally,  until  recently,  when  its  ravages 
on  grass  fields,  reserved  for  hay,  have  exhibited  their  depreda- 
tions, brown  spots  or  areas,  the  herbage  having  been  destroyed  by 
these  voracious  creatures ; these  minute  insects  are  countless  in 
number,  and  need  the  observance  and  study  of  every  carefu. 
farmer. 

Bark-Lice. — These  insects  vary  very  much  in  form  ; some  of 
them  are  oval  and  slightly  convex  scales,  and  others  have  the  shape 
of  a muscle ; some  are  quite  convex,  and  either  formed  like  a boat 
turned  bottom  upwards,  or  are  kidney  shaped,  or  globular.  They 
live  mostly  on  the  bark  of  the  stems  of  plants,  some  however,  are 
habitually  found  upon  leaves,  and  some  on  roots.  Early  in  the 
spring  the  bark-lice  are  found  apparently  torpid,  situated  longitu- 
dinally in  regard  to  the  branch,  the  head  upwards,  and  sticking  by 
their  flattened  inferior  surface  closely  to  the  bark.  On  attempting 
to  remove  them  they  are  generally  crushed,  and  there  issues  from 
the  body  a dark  colored  fluid.  By  pricking  them  with  a pin,  they 
can  be  made  to  quit  their  hold.  A little  later  the  body  is  more 
swelled,  an  1,  on  carefully  raising  it  with  a knife,  numerous  oblong 
eggs  will  be  discovered  beneath  it,  and  the  insect  appears  dried  up 
and  dead,  and  only  its  outer  skin  remains,  which  forms  a convex 
cover  to  its  future  progeny.  Under  this  protecting  shield  the 
young  are  hatched,  and,  on  the  approach  of  warm  weather,  make 
their  escape  at  the  lower  end  of  the  shield,  which  is  either  slightly 
< 1 vated  or  notched  at  this  part.  They  then  move  with  consider- 
able activity,  and  disperse  themselves  over  the  young  shoots  o 
leaves.  These  young  lice  insert  their  beaks  into  the  bark  or  leaves, 
and  draw  from  the  cellular  substance  the  sap  that  nourishes  them. 
Young  apple  trees,  and  the  extremities  of  the  limbs  of  older  trees 
are  very  much  subject  to  the  attacks  of  a small  species  of  bark- 
louse.  The  limbs  and  smooth  parts  of  the  trunks  are  sometimes 
completely  covered  with  these  insects,  and  present  a very  singularly 
wrinkled  and  rough  appearance  from  the  bodies  which  are  crowded 
closely  together.  In  the  winter  these  insects  are  torpid,  and  appa- 
rently dead.  These  insects  have  now  become  extremely  common, 
and  infest  our  nurseries  and  young  trees  to  a very  great  extent. 

The  best  application  for  the  destruction  of  the  lice  is  a wash 
made  of  two  parts  of  soft  soap  and  eight  of  water,  with  which  is  to 
be  mixed  lime  enough  to  bring  it  to  the  consistence  of  thick  white- 
wash. This  is  to  be  put  upon  the  trunks  and  limbs  of  the  trees 
with  a brush,  and  as  high  as  practicable,  so  as  to  cover  the  whole 


INSECTS. 


97 


surface,  and  fill  all  the  cracks  in  the  bark.  The  proper  time  for 
washing  over  the  trees  is  in  the  early  part  of  June,  when  the  in- 
sects are  young  and  tender.  These  insects  may  also  be  killed  by 
using  in  the  same  way  a solution  of  two  pounds  of  potash  in  seven 
quarts  of  water,  or  a pickle  consisting  of  a quart  of  common  salt  in 
two  gallons  of  water. 

Peach  Tree  Borer. — The  pernicious  borer,  which,  during  many 
years  past,  has  proved  very  destructive  to  peach-trees  throughout 
the  United  States,  is  a species  of  uEgeria , named  exitiosa,  or  the  de- 
structive. The  eggs,  from  which  these  borers  are  hatched,  are  de- 
posited, in  the  course  of  the  summer,  upon  the  trunk  of  the  tree 
near  the  root ; the  borers  penetrate  the  bark,  and  devour  the  inner 
bark  and  sap-wood.  The  seat  of  their  operations  is  known  by  the 
castings  and  gum  which  issue  from  the  holes  in  the  tree.  When 
these  borers  are  nearly  one  year  old,  they  make  their  cocoons  either 
under  the  bark  of  the  trunk  or  of  the  root,  or  in  the  earth  and  gum 
contiguous  to  the  base  of  the  trees ; soon  afterwards  they  are  trans- 
formed to  chrysalids,  and  finally  come  forth  in  the  winged  state, 
and  lay  the  eggs  for  another  generation  of  borers.  The  last  trans- 
formation takes  place  from  June  to  October.  Hence  borers,  of  all 
sizes,  will  be  found  in  the  trees  throughout  the  year,  although  it 
seems  to  be  necessary  that  all  of  them,  whether  more  or  less  ad- 
vanced, should  pass  through  one  winter  before  they  appear  in  the 
winged  state. 

As  a remedy  remove  the  earth  around  the  base  of  the  tree, 
crush  and  destroy  the  cocoons  and  borers  which  may  be  found  in 
it,  and  under  the  bark,  cover  the  wounded  parts  with  common  clay 
composition  or  mortar,  and  surround  the  trunk  with  a strip  of 
sheathing-paper  eight  or  nine  inches  wide,  which  should  extend 
two  inches  below  the  level  of  the  soil,  and  be  secured  with  strings 
of  matting  above.  Fresh  mortar  should  then  be  placed  around  the 
root,  so  as  to  confine  the  paper  and  prevent  access  beneath  it,  and 
the  remaining  cavity  may  be  filled  with  new  or  unexhausted  loam. 
This  operation  should  be  performed  in  the  spring  or  during  the 
month  of  June.  In  the  winter  the  strings  may  be  removed,  and 
in  the  following  spring  the  trees  should  again  be  examined  for  any 
borers  that  may  have  escaped  search  before,  and  the  protecting  ap- 
plications should  be  renewed. 

5 


98 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


CATERPILLARS. 

Yellow  Bear  Caterpillar. — Of  all  the  hairy  caterpillars  fre- 
quenting our  gardens,  there  are  none  so  common  and  troublesome 
in  the  Northern  States  as  that  called  the  yellow  be'ar  by  Harris. 
Like  most  of  its  genus  it  is  a very  general  feeder,  devouring  almost 
all  kinds  of  herbaceous  plants,  with  equal  relish,  from  the  broad- 
leaved plantain  at  the  door-side,  the  peas,  beans,  and  even  the 
flowers  of  the  garden,  and  the  corn  and  coarse  grasses  of  the  fields, 
to  the  leaves  of  the  vine,  the  currant,  and  the  gooseberry,  which  it 
does  not  refuse  when  pressed  by  hunger.  This  kind  of  caterpillar 
varies  very  much  in  its  colors ; it  is  perhaps  most  often  of  a pale 
yellow  or  straw  color,  with  a black  line  along  each  side  of  the  body, 
and  a transverse  line  of  the  same  color  between  each  of  the  seg- 
ments or  rings,  and  it  is  covered  with  long  pale  yellow  hairs. 
Others  are  often  seen  of  a rusty  or  brownish  yellow  color,  with  the 
same  black  lines  on  the  sides  and  between  the  rings,  and  they  are 
clothed  with  foxy  red  or  light  brown  hairs.  The  head  and  ends  of 
the  feet  are  ochre-yellow,  and  the  under-side  of  the  body  is  blackish 
in  all  the  varieties.  They  are  to  be  found  of  different  ages  and 
sizes  from  the  first  of  June  till  October.  When  hilly  grown  they 
are  about  two  inches  long,  and  then  creep  into  some  convenient 
place  of  shelter,  make  their  cocoons,  in  which  they  remain  in  the 
chrysalis  state  during  the  winter,  and  are  changed  to  moths  in  the 
months  of  May  or  June  following.  Some  of  the  first  broods  of 
these  caterpillars  appear  to  come  to  their  growth  early  in  summer, 
and  are  transformed  to  moths  by  the  end  of  July  or  the  beginning 
of  August,  at  which  time  I have  repeatedly  taken  them  in  the 
winged  state  ; but  the  greater  part  pass  through  their  last  change 
in  June.  The  moth  is  familiarly  known  by  the  name  of  the  white 
miller,  and  is  often  seen  about  houses.  Its  scientific  name  is  Arc- 
tic! Virginka.  It  is  white,  with  a black  point  on  the  middle  of  the 
fore-wings,  and  two  black  dots  on  the  hind-wings,  one  on  the  mid- 
dle and  the  other  near  the  posterior  angle,  much  more  distinct  on 
the  under  than  on  the  upper  side ; there  is  a row  of  black  dots  on 
the  top  of  the  back,  another  on  each  side,  and  between  these  a lon- 
gitudinal deep  yellow  stripe  ; the  hips  and  thighs  of  tbo  fore-legs 
are  also  ochre-yellow.  It  expands  from  one  inch  and  a ):  al-f  to  two 
inches.  Pick  off  the  caterpillars  from  day  to  day  and  crush  them, 
and  do  not  spare  “ the  pretty  white  millers,”  frequently  found  on 
the  fences,  or  on  the  plants,  laying  their  golden  yellow  eggs. 


INSECTS. 


99 


The  Salt-marsh  Caterpillar,  an  insect  by  far  too  well  known 
on  our  sea-board,  and  now  getting  to  be  common  in  the  interior, 
closely  resembles  the  yellow  bear  in  some  of  its  varieties.  These 
appear  toward  the  end  of  June,  and  grow  rapidly  from  that  time 
till  the  first  of  August.  During  this  month  they  come  to  their  full 
size,  and  begin  to  run,  as  the  phrase  is,  or  retreat  from  the  marshes, 
and  disperse  through  the  adjacent  uplands,  often  committing  very 
extensive  ravages  in  their  progress.  Corn-fields,  gardens,  and  even 
the  rank  weeds  by  the  way-side  afford  them  temporary  nourish- 
ment while  wandering  in  search  of  a place  of  security  from  the  tide 
and  weather.  They  conceal  themselves  in  walls,  under  stones,  in 
hay-stacks  and  mows,  in  wood-piles,  and  in  any  other  places  in  their 
way,  which  will  afford  them  the  proper  degree  of  shelter  during 
the  winter.  Here  they  make  their  coarse  hairy  cocoons,  and  change 
to  chrysalids,  in  which  form  they  remain  till  the  following  summer, 
and  are  transformed  to  moths  in  the  month  of  June.  In  those 
cases  where,  from  any  cause,  the  caterpillars,  when  arrived  at  ma- 
turity, have  been  unable  to  leave  the  marshes,  they  conceal  them- 
selves beneath  the  stubble,  and  there  make  their  cocoons.  Such, 
for  the  most  part,  is  the  course  and  duration  of  the  lives  of  these 
insects  in  the  Northern  States ; but  in  the  Middle  and  Southern 
States  two  broods  are  brought  to  perfection  annually ; and  even 
here  some  of  them  run  through  their  course  sooner,  and  produce  a 
second  brood  of  caterpillars  in  the  same  season.  The  full-grown 
caterpillar  measures  one  inch  and  three  quarters  or  more  in  length. 
It  is  clothed  with  long  hairs,  which  are  sometimes  black  and  some- 
times brown  on  the  back  and  forepart  of  the  body,  and  of  a lighter 
brown  color  on  the  sides.  The  hairs  grow  in  spreading  clusters 
from  warts,  which  are  of  a yellowish  color  in  this  species.  The 
body,  when  stripped  of  the  hairs,  is  yellow,  shaded  at  the  sides 
with  black,  and  there  is  a blackish  line  extending  along  the  top  of 
the  back.  The  breathing-holes  are  white,  and  very  distinct  even 
through  the  hairs.  These  caterpillars,  when  feeding  on  the  marshes, 
are  sometimes  overtaken  by  the  tide,  and  when  escape  becomes  im 
possible,  they  roll  themselves  up  in  a circular  form,  and  abandon 
themselves  to  their  fate.  The  hairs  on  their  bodies  seem  to  have  a 
repelling  power,  and  prevent  the  water  from  wetting  their  skins,  so 
that  they  float  on  the  surface,  and  are  often  carried  by  the  waves 
to  distant  places,  where  they  are  thrown  on  shore,  and  left  in  win- 
rows  with  the  wash  of  the  sea.  After  a little  time  most  of  them 
recover  from  their  half-drowned  condition,  and  begin  their  depre- 


100 


the:  pests  of  the  farm. 


dations  anew.  In  this  way  these  insects  seem  to  have  spread  from 
the  places  where  they  first  appeared  to  others  at  a considerable 
distance. 

In  order  to  lessen  the  ravages  of  the  salt-marsh  caterpillars,  and 
to  secure  a fair  crop  of  hay  when  these  insects  abound,  the  marshes 
should  be  mowed  early  in  July,  at  which  time  the  caterpillars  are 
small  and  feeble,  and  being  unable  to  wander  far,  will  die  before 
the  crop  is  gathered  in.  In  defence  of  early  mowing,  it  may  be 
said  that  it  is  the  only  way  by  which  the  grass  may  be  saved  in 
those  meadows  where  the  caterpillars  have  multiplied  to  any  ex- 
tent ; and,  if  the  practice  is  followed  generally,  and  continued  du- 
ring several  years  in  succession,  it  will  do  much  towards  extermi- 
•nating  these  destructive  insects.  By  the  practice  of  late  mowing, 
where  the  caterpillars  abound,  a great  loss  in  the  crop  will  be  sus- 
tained, immense  numbers  of  caterpillars  and  grasshoppers  will  be 
left  to  grow  to  maturity  and  disperse  upon  the  uplands,  by  which 
means  the  evil  will  go  on  increasing  from  year  to  year ; or  they 
will  be  brought  in  with  the  hay  to  perish  in  our  barns  and  stacks, 
where  their  dead  bodies  will  prove  offensive  to  the  cattle,  and  occa- 
sion a waste  of  fodder.  To  get  rid  of  “ the  old  fog  ” or  stubble, 
which  becomes  much  thicker  and  longer  in  consequence  of  early 
mowing,  the  marshes  should  be  burnt  over  in  March.  The  roots 
of  the  grass  will  not  be  injured  by  burning  the  stubble,  on  the  con- 
trary they  will  be  "fertilized  by  the  ashes  ; while  great  numbers  of 
young  grasshoppers,  cocoons  of  caterpillars,  and  various  kinds  of 
destructive  insects,  with  their  eggs,  concealed  in  the  stubble,  will 
be  destroyed  by  the  fire.  In  the  Province  of  New  Brunswick,  the 
benefit  arising  from  burning  the  stubble  has  long  been  proved. 

Of  the  caterpillars  which  devour  the  leaves  of  trees,  the  most 
common  and  destructive  are  the  little  caterpillars  known  by  the 
name  of  fall  web-worms,  whose  large  webs,  sometimes  extending 
over  entire  branches  with  their  leaves,  may  be  seen  on  our  native 
elms,  and  also  on  apple  and  other  fruit  trees,  in  the  latter  part  of 
summer.  The  eggs,  from  which  these  caterpillars  proceed,  are  laid 
by  the  parent  moth  in  a cluster  upon  a leaf  near  the  extremity  of  a 
branch ; they  are  hatched  from  the  last  of  June  till  the  middle  of 
August,  some  broods  being  early  and  others  late,  and  the  young 
caterpillars  immediately  begin  to  provide  a si  elter  for  themselves, 
by  covering  the  upper  side  of  the  leaf  with  a web,  which  is  the 
result  of  the  united  labors  of  the  whole  brood.  They  feed  in  com- 
pany beneath  this  web,  devouring  only  the  upper  skin  and  pulpy 


INSECTS. 


101 


portion  of  the  leaf,  leaving  the  veins  and  lower  skin  of  the  leaf  un- 
touched. As  they  increase  in  size,  they  enlarge  their  web,  carry- 
ing it  over  the  next  lower  leaves,  all  the  upper  and  pulpy  parts  of 
which  are  eaten  in  the  same  way,  and  thus  they  continue  to  work 
downwards,  till  finally  the  web  covers  a large  portion  of  the  branch, 
with  its  dry,  brown,  and  filmy  foliage,  reduced  to  this  unseemly 
condition  by  these  little  spoilers.  These  catei  pillars  when  fully- 
grown,  measure  rather  more  than  one  inch  in  length  ; their  bodies 
are  slender  and  are  very  thinly  clothed  with  hairs  of  a grayish  color, 
intermingled  with  a few  which  are  black.  The  general  color  of  the 
body  is  greenish  yellow  dotted  with  black ; there  is  a broad  black- 
ish stripe  along  the  top  of  the  back,  and  a bright  yellow  stripe  on 
each  side.  The  warts,  from  which  the  thin  bundles  of  spreading, 
silky  hairs  proceed,  are  black  on  the  back,  and  rust-yellow  or  orange 
on  the  sides.  The  head  and  feet  are  black.  Towards  the  end  of 
August  and  during  the  month  of  September  they  leave  the  trees, 
disperse,  and  wander  about,  eating  such  plants  as  happen  to  lie  in 
their  course,  till  they  have  found  suitable  places  for  shelter  and  con- 
cealment where  they  make  their  thin  and  almost  transparent  co- 
coons, composed  of  a slight  web  of  silk  intermingled  with  a few 
hairs.  They  remain  in  the  cocoons  in  the  chrysalis  state  through 
the  winter,  and  are  transformed  to  moths  in  the  months  of  June 
and  July.  These  moths  are  white,  and  without  spots;  the  fore- 
thighs are  tawny-yellow,  and  the  feet  blackish.  Their  wings  ex- 
pand from  one  inch  and  a quarter  to  one  inch  and  three  eighths. 
Their  antennae  and  feelers  do  not  differ  essentially  from  those  of  the 
majority  of  the  Arctians,  the  former  in  the  males  being  doubly 
feathered  beneath,  and  those  of  the  females  having  two  rows  of  mi- 
nute teeth  on  the  under-side.  The  only  time  in  which  we  can  at- 
tempt to  exterminate  these  destructive  insects  with  any  prospect  of 
success,  is  when  they  are  young  and  just  beginning  to  make  their 
webs  on  the  trees.  So  soon,  then,  as  the  webs  begin  to  appear  on 
the  extremities  of  the  branches,  they  should  be  stripped  off,  with 
the  few  leaves  which  they  cover,  and  the  caterpillars  contained 
therein,  at  one  grasp,  and  should  be  crushed  under  foot. 

Apple-Tree  Caterpillars. — During  the  months  of  July  and 
August,  there  may  be  found  on  apple-trees  and  rose-bushes  little 
slender  caterpillars  of  a bright  yellow  color,  sparingly  clothed  with 
long  and  fine  yellow  hairs  on  the  sides  of  the  body,  and  having 
four  short  and  thick  brusli-like  yellowish  tufts  on  the  back,  that  is 
on  the  fourth  and  three  following  rings,  two  long  black  plumes  or 


102 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


pencils  extending  forwards  from  the  first  ring,  and  a single  plu  late 
on  the  top  of  the  eleventh  ring.  The  head,  and  the  two  little  re- 
tractile warts  on  the  ninth  and  tenth  rings  are  coral  red ; there  is 
a narrow  black  or  brownish  stripe  along  the  top  of  the  back,  and 
a wider  dusky  stripe  on  each  side  of  the  body.  These  pretty  cat- 
erpillars do  not  ordinarily  herd  together,  but  sometimes  our  apple- 
trees  are  much  infested  by  them.  When  they  have  done  eating, 
they  spin  their  cocoons  on  the  leaves,  or  on  the  branches  or  trunks 
of  the  trees,  or  on  fences  in  the  vicinity.  The  chrysalis  is  not  only 
beset  with  little  hairs  or  down,  but  has  three  oval  clusters  of  branny 
scales  on  the  back.  In  about  eleven  days  after  the  change  to  the 
chrysalis  is  effected,  the  last  transformation  follows,  and  the  insects 
come  forth  in  the  adult  state,  the  females  wingless,  and  the  males 
with  large  ashen-gray  wings,  crossed  by  wavy  darker  bands  on  the 
upper  pair,  on  which,  moreover,  is  a small  black  spot  near  the  tip, 
and  a minute  white  crescent  near  the  outer  hind  angle.  The  body 
of  the  male  is  small  and  slender,  with  a row  of  little  tufts  along 
the  back,  and  the  wings  expand  one  inch  and  three  eighths.  The 
females  are  of  a lighter  gray  color  than  the  males,  their  bodies  are 
very  thick,  and  of  an  oblong  oval  shape,  and,  though  seemingly 
wingless,  upon  close  examination  two  little  scales,  or  stinted  wing- 
lets,  can  be  discovered  on  each  shoulder.  These  females  lay  their 
eggs  upon  the  top  of  their  cocoons,  and  cover  them  with  a large 
quantity  of  frothy  matter,  which  on  drying  becomes  white  and 
brittle.  Different  broods  of  these  insects  appear  at  various  times  in 
the  course  of  the  summer,  but  the  greater  number  come  to  matu- 
rity and  lay  their  eggs  in  the  latter  part  of  August,  and  the  begin- 
ning of  September  ; and  these  eggs  are  not  hatched  till  the  follow- 
ing summer.  The  name  of  this  moth  is  Orgyia  leucostigma,  the 
white-marked  Orgyia  or  tussock-moth.  In  Hovey’s  Gardener’s 
Magazine  Mr.  Ives  states,  that  on  passing  through  an  apple  orchard 
in  February,  he  “ perceived  nearly  all  the  trees  speckled  with  occa- 
sional dead  leaves,  adhering  so  firmly  to  the  branches  as  to  require 
considerable  force  to  dislodge  them.  Each  le*»f  covered  a small 
patch  of  from  one  to  two  hundred  eggs,  united  together,  as  well  as 
to  the  leaf,  by  a gummy  and  silken  fibre,  peculiar  to  the  moth.” 
In  March  he  “visited  the  same  orchard,  and,  as  an  experiment, 
cleared  three  trees,  from  which  he  took  twenty-one  bunches  of  eggs. 
The  remainder  of  the  trees  he  left  untouched  until  the  tenth  of  May, 
when  he  fo'iqd  the  caterpillars  were  hatched  from  the  eggs,  and  had 
commenced  their  slow  but  sure  ravages.  He  watched  them  from 


INSECTS. 


103 


time  to  time,  until  many  t ranches  had  been  spoiled  of  their  leaves, 
and  in  the  autumn  were  entirely  destitute  of  fruit ; while  the  three 
trees,  which  had  been  stripped  of  the  eggs,  were  flush  with  foliage, 
each  limb,  without  exception,  ripening  its  fruit.”  These  pertinent 
remarks  point  out  the  nature  and  extent  of  the  evil,  and  suggest 
the  proper  remedy  to  be  used  against  the  ravages  of  these  insects. 

Lackey  Caterpillar. — There  is  a kind  of  caterpillars  that  swarm 
in  the  unpruned  nurseries  and  neglected  orchards  of  the  slovenly 
husbandman,  and  hang  their  many-coated  webs  upon  the  wild  cherry 
trees  that  are  suffered  to  spring  up  unchecked  by  the  way-side  and 
encroach  upon  the  borders  of  our  pastures  and  fields.  The  eggs 
from  which  they  are  hatched,  are  placed  around  the  ends  of  the 
branches,  forming  a wide  kind  of  ring  or  bracelet,  consisting  of  three 
or  four  hundred  eggs,  in  the  form  of  short  cylinders  standing  on 
their  ends  close  together,  and  covered  with  a thick  coat  of  brownish 
water-proof  varnish.  The  caterpillars  come  forth,  with  the  unfold- 
ing of  the  leaves  of  the  apple  and  cherry  tree,  during  the  latter 
part  of  April  or  the  beginning  of  May.  The  first  signs  of  their 
activity  appear  in  the  formation  of  a little  angular  web  or  tent, 
somewhat  resembling  a spider’s  web,  stretched  between  the  forks 
of  the  branches  a little  below  the  cluster  of  eggs.  Under  the  shel- 
ter of  these  tents,  in  making  which  they  all  work  together,  the 
caterpillars  remain  concealed  at  all  times  when  not  engaged  in  eat- 
ing. In  crawling  from  twig  to  twig  and  from  leaf  to  leaf,  they 
spin  from  their  mouths  a slender  silken  thread,  which  is  a clue  to 
conduct  them  back  to  their  tents ; and  as  they  go  forth  and  return 
in  files,  one  after  another,  their  pathways  in  time  become  well  car- 
peted with  silk,  which  serves  to  render  their  footing  secure  during 
their  frequent  and  periodical  journeys  in  various  directions,  to  and 
from  their  common  habitation.  As  they  increase  in  age  and  size, 
they  enlarge  their  tent,  surrounding  it,  from  time  to  time,  with  new 
layers  or  webs,  till,  at  length,  it  acquires  a diameter  of  eight  or  ten 
inches.  They  come  out  together  at  certain  stated  hours  to  eat,  and 
all  retire  at  once  when  their  regular  meals  are  finished ; during 
bad  weather,  however,  they  fast,  and  do  not  Venture  from  their 
shelter.  These  caterpillars  are  of  a kind  called  lackeys.  When 
fully  grown  they  measure  about  two  inches  in  length.  Their  heads 
are  black ; extending  along  the  top  of  the  back,  from  one  end  to 
the  other,  is  a whitish  line,  on  each  side  of  which,  on  a yellow 
ground,  are  numerous  short  and  fine  crinkled  black  lines,  that, 
lower  down,  become  mingled  together,  and  form  a broad  longitu 


104 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


dinal  black  stripe,  or  rather  a row  of  long  black  spots,  one  on  each 
ring,  in  the  middle  of  each  of  which  is  a small  blue  spot ; below 
this  is  a narrow  wavy  yellow  line,  and  lower  still  the  sides  are  va- 
riegated with  fine  intermingled  black  and  yellow  lines,  which  are 
lost  at  last  in  the  general  dusky  color  of  the  under-side  of  the  body; 
on  the  top  of  the  eleventh  ring  is  a small  blackish  and  hairy  wart, 
and  the  whole  body  is  very  sparingly  clothed  with  short  and  soft 
hairs,  rather  thicker  and  longer  upon  the  sides  than  elsewhere. 
From  the  first  to  the  middle  of  June  they  begin  to  leave  the  trees 
upon  which  they  have  hitherto  lived  in  company,  separate  from 
each  other,  wander  about  awhile,  and  finally  get  into  some  crevice 
or  other  place  of  shelter,  and  make  their  cocoons.  These  are  of  a 
regular  long  oval  form,  composed  of  a thin  and  very  loosely  woven 
web  of  silk,  the  meshes  of  which  are  filled  with  a thin  paste,  that 
on  drying  is  changed  to  a yellow  powder,  like  flour  of  sulphur  in 
appearance.  Some  of  the  caterpillars,  either  from  weakness  or  some 
other  cause,  do  not  leave  their  nests  with  the  rest  of  the  swarm, 
but  make  their  cocoons  there,  and  when  the  webs  are  opened  these 
cocoons  may  be  seen  intermixed  with  a mass  of  blackish  grains,  like 
gunpowder,  excreted  by  the  caterpillars  during  their  stay.  From 
fourteen  to  seventeen  days  after  the  insect  has  made  its  cocoon  and 
changed  to  a chrysalis,  it  bursts  its  chrysalis  skin,  forces  its  way 
through  the  wet  and  softened  end  of  its  cocoon,  and  appears  in  the 
winged  or  miller  form. 

The  moth  of  the  lackey-caterpillar  is  of  a rusty  or  reddish  brown 
color,  more  or  less  mingled  with  gray  on  the  middle  and  base  of 
the  fore-wings,  which,  besides,  are  crossed  by  two  oblique,  straight, 
dirty  white  lines.  It  expands  from  one  inch  and  a quarter,  to  one 
inch  and  a half,  or  a little  more.  The  moths  appear  in  great  num- 
bers in  July,  flying  about  and  often  entering  houses  by  night.  At 
this  time  they  lay  their  eggs,  selecting  the  wild  cherry,  in  prefer- 
ence to  all  other  trees,  for  this  purpose,  and,  next  to  these,  apple- 
trees.  These  insects,  because  they  are  the  most  common  and  most 
abundant  in  all  parts  of  our  country,  and  have  obtained  such  noto- 
riety that  in  common  language  they  are  almost  exclusively  known 
among  us  by  the  name  of  the  caterpillars,  are  the  worst  enemies  o* 
the  orchard.  Where  proper  attention  has  not  been  paid  to  the 
destruction  of  them,  they  prevail  to  such  an  extent  as  almost  en- 
tirely to  strip  the  apple  and  cherry  trees  of  their  foliage,  by  their 
attacks  continued  during  the  seven  weeks  of  their  life  in  the  cater- 
pillar form.  The  trees,  in  those  orchards  and  gardens  where  they 


INSECTS. 


105 


have  been  suffered  to  breed  for  a succession  of  years,  become  pre- 
maturely old,  in  consequence  of  the  efforts  they  are  obliged  to 
make  to  repair,  at  an  unseasonable  time,  the  loss  of  their  foliage, 
and  are  rendered  unfruitful,  and  consequently  unprofitable.  But 
this  is  not  all ; these  pernicious  insects  spread  in  every  direction, 
from  the  trees  of  the  careless  and  indolent,  to  those  of  their  more 
careful  and  industrious  neighbors,  whose  labors  are  thereby  greatly 
increased,  and  have  to  be  followed  up  year  after  year,  without  any 
prospect  of  permanent  relief. 

Many  methods  and  receipts  for  the  destruction  of  these  insects 
have  been  published  and  recommended,  but  have  failed  to  exter- 
minate, them,  and  indeed  have  done  but  little  to  lessen  their  num- 
bers. The  great  difficulty  is  the  neglect  to  do  any  thing,  till  after 
the  caterpillars  have  covered  the  trees  with  their  nests.  Then  the 
labors  of  the  sluggard  commence,  and  one  tree,  let  his  receipt  be 
ever  so  perfect  and  powerful,  will  cost  him  as  much  time  and  labor 
as  ten  trees  would  have  required  three  weeks  sooner.  The  means 
to  be  employed  may  be  stated  under  three  heads.  The  first  is,  the 
collection  and  destruction  of  the  eggs.  These  should  be  sought  for 
in  the  winter  and  the  early  part  of  spring,  when  there  are  no  leaves 
on  the  trees.  They  are  easily  discovered  at  this  time,  and  may  be 
removed  with  the  thumb-nail  and  fore-finger.  Nurseries  and  the 
lower  limbs  of  large  trees  may  thus  be  entirely  cleared  of  the  clus- 
ters of  eggs  during  a few  visits  made  at  the  proper  season.  If  a 
liberal  bounty  for  the  collection  of  the  eggs  were  to  be  offered,  and 
continued  for  the  space  of  ten  years,  these  destructive  caterpillars 
would  be  nearly  exterminated  at  the  end  of  that  time.  Under  the 
second  head  are  to  be  mentioned  the  most  approved  plans  for  de- 
stroying the  caterpillars  after  they  are  hatched,  and  have  begun  to 
make  their  nests  or  tents.  It  is  well  known  that  the  caterpillars 
come  out  to  feed  twice  during  the  day-time,  namely,  in  the  fore- 
noon and  afternoon,  and  that  they  rarely  leave  their  nests  before 
nine  in  the  morning,  and  return  to  them  again  at  noon.  During 
the  early  part  of  the  season,  while  the  nests  are  small,  and  the  cat- 
erpillars young  and  tender,  and  at  those  hours  when  the  insects 
are  gathered  together  within  their  common  habitation,  they  may 
be  effectually  destroyed  by  crushing  them  by  hand  in  the  nests. 
A brush,  somewhat  like  a bottle-brush,  fixed  to  a long  handle,  a 
dried  mullein  head  and  its  stalk  fastened  to  a pole,  will  be  useful 
to  remove  the  nests,  with  the  caterpillars  contained  therein,  from 
those  branches  which  are  too  high  to  be  reached  by  hand.  In* 


106 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


stead  of  the  brush,  we  may  use,  with  nearly  equal  success,  a small 
mop  or  sponge,  dipped  as  often  as  necessary  into  a pailful  of  refuse 
6oap-suds,  strong  white-wash,  or  cheap  oil.  The  mop  should  be 
thrust  into  the  nest  and  turned  round  a little,  so  as  to  wet  the  cat- 
erpillars with  the  liquid,  which  will  kill  every  one  that  it  touches. 
These  means,  to  be  effectual,  .nould  be  employed  during  the  proper 
hours,  that  is,  early  in  the  morning,  at  mid-day,  or  at  night,  and 
as  soon  in  the  spring  as  the  caterpillars  begin  to  make  their  nests ; 
and  they  should  be  repeated  as  often  at  least,  as  once  a week,  till 
the  insects  leave  the  trees.  Early  attention  and  perseverance  in 
the  use  of  these  remedies  will,  in  time,  save  the  farmer  hundreds 
of  dollars,  and  abundance  of  mortification  and  disappointment,  be- 
sides rewarding  him  with  the  grateful  sight  of  the  verdant’  foliage, 
snowy  blossoms,  and  rich  fruits  of  his  orchard  in  their  proper  sea- 
sons. Under  the  third  head,  declare  war  against  these  caterpillars, 
a war  of  extermination,  to  be  waged  annually  during  the  month  of 
May  and  the  beginning  of  June.  Let  every  able-bodied  citizen, 
who  is  the  owner  of  an  apple  or  cherry  tree,  cultivated  or  wild, 
within  our  borders,  open  the  campaign  in  May,  and  give  battle  to 
the  common  enemy.  If  every  man  is  prompt  to  do  his  duty,  the 
enemy  will  be  completely  conquered. 

Locust-Tree  Borers. — The  locust-tree,  Robinia  pseibdacacia,  is 
preyed  upon  by  three  different  kinds  of  wood-eaters  or  borers,  whose 
unchecked  ravages  seem  to  threaten  the  entire  destruction  and  ex- 
termination of  this  valuable  tree  within  this  part  of  the  United 
States.  One  of  these  borers  is  a little  reddish  caterpillar,  whose 
operations  are  confined  to  the  small  branches  and  to  very  young 
trees,  in  the  pith  of  which  it  lives ; and  by  its  irritation  it  causes 
the  twig  to  swell  around  the  part  attacked.  These  swellings,  being 
spongy  and  also  perforated  by  the  caterpillar,  are  weaker  than  the 
rest  of  the  stem,  which  therefore  easily  breaks  off  at  these  places. 

The  second  kind  of  borer  of  the  locust-tree  is  larger  than  the 
foregoing,  is  a grub,  and  not  a caterpillar,  which  finally  turns  to  the 
beetle  named  Clytus  pictus , the  painted  Clytus.  In  the  month  of 
September  these  beetles  gather  on  the  locust-trees.  Having  paired, 
the  female  creeps  over  the  bark,  searching  the  crevices  with  her 
antennae,  and  dropping  therein  her  snow-white  eggs,  in  clusters  of 
seven  or  eight  together,  and  at  intervals  of  five  or  six  minutes,  till 
her  whole  stock  is  safely  stored.  The  eggs  are  soon  hatched,  and 
the  grubs  immediately  burrow  into  the  bark,  devouring  the  soft 
inner  substance  that  suffices  for  their  nourishment  till  the  approach 


INSECTS. 


107 


of  winter,  during  which  they  remain  at  rest  in  a torpid  state.  In 
the  spring  they  bore  through  the  sap-wood,  more  or  less  deeply  into 
the  trunk,  the  general  course  of  their  winding  and  irregular  pas- 
sages being  in  an  upward  direction  from  the  place  of  their  entrance. 
For  a time  they  cast  their  chips  out  of  their  holes  as  fast  as  they 
are  made,  but  after  a while  the  passage  becomes  clogged  and  the 
burrow  more  or  less  filled  with  the  coarse  and  fibrous  fragments  ot 
wood,  to  get  rid  of  which  the  grubs  are  often  obliged  to  open  new 
holes  through  the  bark.  ' The  seat  of  their  operations  is  known  by 
the  oozing  of  the  sap  and  the  dropping  of  the  saw-dust  from  the 
holes.  The  bark  around  the  part  attacked  begins  to  swell,  and  in 
a few  years  the  trunks  and  limbs  will  become  disfigured  and  weak- 
ened by  large  porous  tumors,  caused  by  the  efforts  of  the  trees  to 
repair  the  injuries  they  have  suffered.  The  grubs  attain  their  full 
size  by  the  twentieth  of  July,  soon  become  pupae,  and  are  changed 
to  beetles  and  leave  the  trees  early  in  September.  Thus  the  exist- 
ence of  this  species  is  limited  to  one  year. 

White-washing,  and  covering  the  trunks  of  the  trees  with  graft- 
ing composition,  may  prevent  the  female  from  depositing  her  eggs 
upon  them  ; but  this  practice  cannot  be  carried  to  any  great  extent 
in  plantations  or  large  nurseries  of  the  trees.  Perhaps  it  will  be 
useful  to  head  or  cut  down  young  trees  to  the  ground,  with  the 
view  of  destroying  the  grubs  contained  in  them,  as  well  as  to  pro- 
mote a more  vigorous  growth.  Much  evil  might  be  prevented  by 
employing  children  to  collect  the  beetles  while  in  the  act  of  provi- 
ding for  the  continuation  of  their  kind.  A common  black  bottle, 
containing  a little  water,  would  be  a suitable  vessel  to  receive  the 
beetles  as  fast  as  they  were  gathered,  and  should  be  emptied  into 
the  fire  in  order  to  destroy  the  insects.  The  gathering  should  be 
begun  as  soon  as  the  beetles  first  appear,  and  should  be  continued 
as  long  as  any  are  found  on  the  trees,  and  furthermore  should  be 
made  a general  business  for  several  years  in  succession.  I have  no 
doubt,  should  this  be  done,  that,  by  devoting  one  hour  every  day 
to  this  object,  we  may,  in  the  course  of  a few  years,  rid  ourselves 
of  this  destructive  insect. 

The  third  of  the  wood-eaters,  to  which  the  locust-tree  is  exposed, 
though  less  common  than  the  others,  and  not  so  universally  de- 
structive to  the  tree  as  the  painted  Clytus,  is  a very  much  larger 
borer,  and  is  occasionally  productive  of  great  injury,  especially  to 
full-grown  and  old  trees,  for  which  it  appears  to  have  a preference. 
It  is  a true  caterpillar,  belonging  to  the  tribe  of  moths  under  con- 


108 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


^deration,  is  reddish  above,  and  white  beneath,  with  the  head  and 
top  of  the  first  ring  brown  and  shelly,  and  there  are  a few  short 
hairs  arising  from  minute  warts  thinly  scattered  over  the  surface  of 
the  body.  When  fully  grown,  it  measures  two  inches  and  a half, 
or  more,  in  length,  and  is  nearly  as  thick  as  the  end  of  the  little 
finger.  These  caterpillars  bore  the  tree  in  various  directions,  but 
for  the  most  part  obliquely  upwards  and  downwards  through  the 
solid  wood,  enlarging  the  holes  as  they  increase  in  size,  and  con- 
tinuing them  through  the  bark  to  the  outside  of  the  trunk.  Before 
transforming,  they  line  these  passages  with  a web  of  silk,  and,  re- 
tiring to  some  distance  from  the  orifice,  they  spin  around  their 
bodies  a closer  web,  or  cocoon,  within  which  they  assume  the  chry- 
salis form.  The  chrysalis  measures  one  inch  and  a half  or  two 
inches  in  length,  is  of  an  amber  color,  changing  to  brown  on  the 
forepart  of  the  body ; and,  on  the  upper  side  of  each  abdominal 
ring,  are  two  transverse  rows  of  tooth-like  projections.  By  the  help 
of  these,  the  insect,  when  ready  for  its  last  transformation,  works 
its  way  to  the  mouth  of  its  burrow,  where  it  remains  while  the 
chrysalis  skin  is  rent,  upon  which  it  comes  forth  on  the  trunk  of  the 
tree  a winged  moth.  In  this  its  perfected  state,  it  is  of  a gray  color ; 
the  fore-wings  are  thickly  covered  with  dusky  netted  lines  and 
irregular  spots,  the  hind-wings  are  more  uniformly  dusky,  and  the 
shoulder-covers  are  edged  with  black  on  the  inside.  It  expands 
about  three  inches.  The  male,  which  is  much  smaller,  and  has 
been  mistaken  for  another  species,  is  much  darker  than  the  female, 
from  which  it  differs  also  in  having  a large  ochre-yellow  spot  on  the 
hind-wings,  contiguous  to  their  posterior  margin.  Professor  Peck, 
who  first  made  public  the  history  of  this  insect,  named  it  Cossus 
Rcbinice , the  Cossus  of  the  locust-tree.  It  is  supposed  by  Professor 
Peck  to  remain  three  years  in  the  caterpillar  state.  The  moth 
comes  forth  about  the  middle  of  July. 

Our  fruit-trees  seem  to  be  peculiarly  subject  to  the  ravages  of  in- 
sects, probably  because  the  native  trees  of  the  forest,  which  origi- 
nally yielded  the  insects  an  abundance  of  food,  have  been  destroyed 
to  a great  extent,  and  their  places  supplied  only  partially  By  orch- 
ards, gardens,  and  nurseries.  Numerous  as  are  the  kinds  of  cater- 
pillars now  found  on  cultivated  trees,  some  are  far  more  abundant 
than  others,  and  therefore  more  often  fall  under  our  observation, 
and  come  to  be  better  known.  Such,  for  instance,  are  certain  gre- 
garious caterpillars  that  swarm  on  the  apple,  cherry,  and  plum-trees 
towards  the  end  of  summer,  stripping  whole  branches  of  their 


INSECTS. 


109 


leaves,  and  not  unfrequently  despoiling  our  rose-bushes  and  thorn- 
hedges  also.  These  caterpillars  are  of  two  kinds,  very  different  in 
appearance,  but  alike  in  habits  and  destructive  propensities.  The 
first  of  these  may  be  called  the  red-humped,  a name  that  will  pro- 
bably bring  these  insects  to  the  remembrance  of  those  persons  who 
have  ever  observed  them.  Different  broods  make  their  appearance 
at  various  times  during  August  and  September.  The  eggs,  from 
which  they  proceed,  are  laid,  in  the  course  of  the  month  of  July, 
in  clusters  on  the  under-side  of  a leaf,  generally  near  the  end  of  a 
branch.  When  first  hatched  they  eat  only  the  substance  of  the 
under-side  of  the  leaf,  leaving  the  skin  of  the  upper-side  and  all  the 
veins  untouched  ; but  as  they  grow  larger  and  stronger  they  de- 
vour whole  leaves  from  the  point  to  the  stalk,  and  go  from  leaf  to 
leaf  down  the  twigs  and  branches.  The  young  caterpillars  are 
lighter  colored  than  the  old  ones,  which  are  yellowish- brown,  paler 
on  the  sides,  and  longitudinally  striped  with  slender  black  lines ; 
the  head  is  red ; on  the  top  of  the  fourth  ring  there  is  a bunch  or 
hump,  also  of  a red  color ; along  the  back  are  several  short  black 
prickles ; and  the  hinder  extremity  tapers  somewhat,  and  is  always 
elevated  at  an  angle  with  the  rest  of  the  body,  when  the  insect  is 
not  crawling.  The  full-grown  caterpillars  measure  one  inch  and  a 
quarter,  or  rather  more,  in  length.  The  rest  close  together  on  the 
twigs,  when  not  eating,  and  sometimes  entirely  cover  the  small 
twigs  and  ends  of  the  branches.  The  early  broods  come  to  their 
growth  and  leave  the  trees  by  the  middle  of  August,  and  the  others 
between  this  time  and  the  latter  part  of  September.  All  the  cat- 
erpillars of  the  same  brood  descend  at  one  time,  and  disappear  in 
the  night.  They  conceal  themselves  under  leaves,  or  just  beneath 
the  surface  of  the  soil,  and  make  their  cocoons.  They  remain  a 
long  time  in  their  cocoons  before  changing  to  chrysalids,  and  are 
transformed  to  moths  towards  the  end  of  June  or  the  beginning  of 
July.  Mr.  Abbot  states  that  in  Georgia  these  insects  breed  twice 
a year,  the  first  broods  making  their  cocoons  towards  the  end  of 
May,  and  appearing  in  the  winged  form  fifteen  days  afterwards. 
This,  a Notodonta,  is  a neat  and  trim  looking  moth,  and  is  of  a 
light  brown  color ; the  fore-wings  are  dark  brown  along  the  inner 
margin,  and  more  or  less  tinged  with  gray  before  ; there  is  a dark 
brown  dot  near  the  middle,  a spot  of  the  same  color  near  each  an 
gle,  a very  small  triangular  whitish  spot  near  the  shoulders,  and 
several  dark  brown  longitudinal  streaks  on  the  outer  hind  margin ; 
the  hind-wings  of  the  male  are  brownish  or  dirty  white,  with  a 


no 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


brown  spot  on  the  inner  hind  angle ; those  of  the  other  sex  are 
dusky  brown ; the  body  is  light  brown,  with  the  thorax  rathei 
darker.  The  wings  expand  from  one  inch  to  one  inch  and  three- 
eighths. 

The  second  kind  grow  to  a greater  size,  are  longer  in  coming  to 
their  growth,  their  swarms  are  more  numerous,  and  consequently 
they  do  much  more  injury  than  the  red-humped  kind.  Entire 
branches  of  the  apple-trees  are  frequently  stripped  of  their  leaves 
by  them,  and  are  loaded  with  these  caterpillars  in  thickly  crowded 
swarms.  The  eggs  from  which  they  are  hatched  will  be  found  in 
patches,  of  about  a hundred  together,  fastened  to  the  under-side  of 
leaves  near  the  ends  of  the  twigs.  Some  of  them  begin  to  be 
hatched  about  the  twentieth  of  July,  and  new  broods  make  their 
appearance  in  succession  for  the  space  of  a month  or  more.  At 
first  they  eat  only  the  under-side  and  pulpy  part  of  the  leaves, 
leaving  the  upper-side  and  veins  untouched ; but  afterwards  they 
consume  the  whole  of  the  leaves  except  their  stems.  These  cater- 
pillars are  sparingly  covered  with  soft  whitish  hairs ; the  young 
ones  are  brown,  and  striped  with  white ; but  as  they  grow  older, 
their  colors  become  darker  every  time  they  cast  their  skins.  They 
come  to  their  full  size  in  about  five  weeks  or  a little  more,  and  then 
measure  from  an  inch  and  three  quarters  to  two  inches  and  a quar- 
ter in  extent.  The  head  is  large,  and  of  a black  color ; the  body 
is  nearly  cylindrical,  with  a spot  on  the  top  of  the  first  ring  and  the 
legs  dull  orange-yellow,  a black  stripe  along  the  top  of  the  back, 
and  three  of  the  same  color  alternating  with  four  yellow  stripes  on 
each  side.  The  posture  of  these  caterpillars,  when  at  rest,  is  v<jry 
odd ; both  extremities  are  raised,  the  body  being  bent,  and  resting 
only  on  the  four  intermediate  pairs  of  legs.  If  touched  or  other- 
wise disturbed,  they  throw  up  their  heads  and  tails  with  a jerk,  at 
the  same  time  bending  the  body  semicircularly  till  the  two  extremi- 
ties almost  meet  over  the  back.  They  all  eat  together,  and,  after 
they  have  done,  arrange  themselves  side  by  side  along  the  twigs 
and  branches  which  they  have  stripped.  Beginning  at  the  ends 
of  the  branches  they  eat  all  the  leaves  successively  from  thence  to- 
wards the  trunk,  and  if  one  branch  does  not  afford  food  enough 
they  betake  themselves  to  another.  When  ready  to  transform,  all 
the  individuals  of  the  same  brood  quit  the  tree  at  once,  descending 
by  night,  and  burrow  into  the  ground  to  the  depth  of  three  or  four 
inches,  and,  within  twenty-four  hours  afterwards,  cast  their  cater- 
pillar-skins, and  become  chrysalids  without  making  cocoons.  They 


INSECTS. 


Ill 


remain  in  the  ground  m this  state  all  winter,  and  are  changed  to 
moths  and  come  out  oetween  the  middle  and  end  of  July.  These 
moths  belong  to  the  genus  Pygcera , so  named  because  the  cater- 
pillar sits  with  its  tail  raised  up.  The  antennae  are  rather  long, 
those  of  the  males  fringed  beneath,  in  a double  row,  with  very 
short  hairs  nearly  to  the  tips,  which,  however,  as  well  as  the  whole 
of  the  stalk  of  the  antennae  in  the  other  sex,  are  bare  ; the  thorax 
is  generally  marked  with  a large  dark-colored  spot,  the  hairs  of 
which  can  be  raised  up  so  as  to  form  a ridge  or  kind  of  crest ; the 
hinder  margin  of  the  fore-wings  is  slightly  notched  ; and  the  fore- 
legs are  stretched  out  before  the  body  in  repose.  Our  Pygcera  was 
named,  by  Drury,  ministra , the  attendant  or  servant.  It  is  of  a 
light  brown  color  ; the  head  and  a large  square  spot  on  the  thorax 
are  dark  chestnut-brown  ; on  the  fore-wings  are  four  or  five  trans- 
verse lines,  one  or  two  spots  near  the  middle,  and  a short  oblique 
line  near  the  tip,  all  of  which,  with  the  outer  hind  margin,  are  dark 
chestnut-brown.  One  and  sometimes  both  of  the  dark-brown  spots 
are  wanting  on  the  fore-wings  in  the  males,  and  the  females,  which 
are  larger  than  the  other  sex,  frequently  have  five  instead  of  four 
transverse  brown  fines.  It  expands  from  one  inch  and  three  quar- 
ters to  two  inches  and  a half. 

There  are  seen  on  the  oak,  the  birch,  the  black  walnut,  and  the 
hickory  trees,  swarms  of  caterpillars  slightly  differing  in  color  from 
each  other  and  from  those  that  five  on  the  apple  and  cherry  trees ; 
they  are  more  hairy  than  the  latter,  but  their  postures  and  habits 
appear  to  be  the  same.  They  are  probably  only  varieties  of  the 
ministra , arising  from  the  difference  of  food. 

Corn  Caterpillar. — Indian  corn  often  suffers  severely  from  the 
depredations  of  one  of  the  genus  Nonagrians,  known  to  our  farmers 
by  the  name  of  the  spindle- worm.  This  insect  receives  its  common 
name  from  its  destroying  the  spindle  of  the  Indian  corn ; but  its 
ravages  generally  begin  while  the  corn-stalk  is  young,  and  before 
the  spindle  rises  much  above  the  tuft  of  leaves  in  which  it  is  em- 
bosomed. The  mischief  is  discovered  by  the  withering  of  the  leaves, 
and,  when  these  are  taken  hold  of,  they  may  often  be  drawn  out 
with  the  included  spindle.  # On  examining  the  corn,  a small  hole 
may  be  seen  in  the  side  of  the  leafy  stalk,  near  the  ground,  pene- 
trating into  the  soft  centre  of  the  stalk,  which,  when  cut  open,  will 
be  found  to  be  perforated,  both  upwards  and  downwards,  by  a slen- 
der worm-like  caterpillar,  whose  excrementitious  castings  surround 
the  orifice  of  the  hole.  This  caterpillar  grows  to  the  length  of  an 


112 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


inch,  or  more,  and  to  the  thickness  of  a goose-quill.  It  is  smooth, 
and  apparently  naked,  yellowish,  with  the  head,  the  top  of  the  first 
and  of  the  last  rings  black,  and  with  a band  across  each  of  the 
other  rings,  consisting  of  small,  smooth,  slightly  elevated,  shining 
black  dots,  arranged  in  a double  row.  The  chrysalis,  which  is 
lodged  in  the  burrow  formed  by  the  spindle-worm,  is  slender,  but 
not  quite  so  long  in  proportion  to  its  thickness  as  are  those  of  most 
of  the  Nonagrians.  It  is  shining  mahogany-brown,  with  the  ante- 
rior edges  of  four  of  the  rings  of  the  back  roughened  with  little 
points,  and  four  short  spines  or  hooks,  turned  upwards,  on  the 
hinder  extremity  of  the  body.  The  fore-wings  are  rust-red ; they 
are  mottled  with  gray,  almost  in  bands,  uniting  with  the  ordinary 
spots,  which  are  also  gray  and  indistinct;  there  is  an  irregular 
tawny  spot  near  the  tip,  and  on  the  veins  there  are  a few  black 
dots.  The  liind-wings  are  yellowish  gray,  with  a central  dusky 
spot,  behind  which  are  two  faint,  dusky  bands.  The  head  and 
thorax  are  rust-red,  with  an  elevated  tawny  tuft  on  each.  The  ab- 
domen is  pale  brown,  with  a row  of  tawny  tufts  on  the  back.  The 
wings  expand  nearly  one  inch  and  a half. 

In  order  to  check  the  ravages  of  these  insects  they  must  be  de- 
stroyed while  in  the  caterpillar  state.  As  soon  as  our  corn-fields 
begin  to  show,  by  the  withering  of  the  leaves,  the  usual  signs  that 
the  enemy  is  at  work  in  the  stalks,  the  spindle-worms  should  be 
sought  for  and  killed  ; for,  if  allowed  to  remain  undisturbed  until 
they  turn  to  moths,  they  will  make  their  escape,  and  we  shall  not 
be  able  to  prevent  them  from  laying  their  eggs  for  another  brood 
of  these  pestilent  insects. 

Cut  Worms. — Numerous  complaints  have  been  made  of  the 
ravages  of  cut- worms  among  corn,  wheat,  grass,  and  other  vegeta- 
bles, in  various  parts  of  the  country.  These  insects  and  their  his- 
tory are  not  yet  known  to  some  of  the  very  persons  who  are  said 
to  have  suffered  from  their  depredations.  Various  cut- worms,  or 
more  properly  subterranean  caterpillars,  wire-worms  and  grub- 
worms, or  the  young  of  May-beetles,  are  often  confounded  together 
or  mistaken  for  each  other ; sometimes  their  names  are  inter- 
changed, and  sometimes  the  same  name  is  given  to  each  and  all  of 
these  different  animals.  Hence  the  remedies  that  are  successful  in 
some  instances  are  entirely  useless  in  others.  The  name  of  cut- 
worm seems  originally  to  have  been  given  to  certain  caterpillars 
that  live  in  the  ground  about  the  roots  of  plants,  but  come  up  in 
the  night,  and  cut  off  and  devour  the  tender  stems  and  lower  leaves 


INSECTS. 


113 


THE  CUT  WORM. 

of  young  cabbages,  beans,  corn,  and  other  herbaceous  plants.  These 
subterranean  caterpillars  are  finally  transformed  to  moths  belonging 
to  a group  which  may  be  called  Agrotidians  (Agrotidid^e),  from  a 
word  signifying  rustic,  or  pertaining  to  the  fields.  Some  of  these 
rustic  moths  fly  by  day,  and  may  be  found  in  the  fields,  especially 
in  the  autumn,  sucking  the  honey  of  flowers ; others  are  on  the 
wing  only  at  night,  and  during  the  day  lie  concealed  in  chinks  of 
walls  and  other  dark  places.  Their  wings  are  nearly  horizontal 
when  closed,  the  upper  pair  completely  covering  the  lower  wings, 
and  often  overlapping  a little  on  their  inner  edges,  thus  favoring 
these  insects  in  their  attempts  to  obtain  shelter  and  concealment. 
The  thorax  is  slightly  convex,  but  smooth  or  not  crested.  The  an- 
tennae of  the  males  are  generally  beset  with  two  rows  of  short  points, 
like  fine  teeth,  on  the  under-side,  nearly  to  the  tips.  The  fore-legs 
are  often  quite  spiny.  Most  of  these  moths  come  forth  in  July  and 
August,  and  soon  afterwards  lay  their  eggs  in  the  ground,  in 
plowed  fields,  gardens,  and  meadows.  In  Europe  it  is  found  that 
the  eggs  are  hatched  early  in  the  autumn,  at  winch  time  the  little 
subterranean  caterpillars  live  chiefly  on  the  roots  and  tender  sprouts 
of  herbaceous  plants.  On  the  approach  of  winter  they  descend 
deeper  into  the  ground,  and,  curling  themselves  up,  remain  in  a 
torpid  state  till  the  following  spring,  when  they  ascend  towards  the 
surface,  and  renew  their  devastations.  The  caterpillars  of  the 
Agrotidians;  are  smooth,  shining,  naked,  and  dark-colored,  with  lon- 
gitudinal pale  and  blackish  stripes,  and  a few  black  dots  on  each 


114 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


ring ; some  of  them  also  have  a shining,  homy,  black  spot,  on  the 
top  of  the  first  ring.  They  are  of  a cylindrical  form,  tapering  a 
little  at  each  end,  rather  thick  in  proportion  to  their  length,  and  are 
provided  with  sixteen  legs.  They  are  changed  to  chrysalids  in  the 
ground,  without  previously  making  silken  cocoons. 

It  is  chiefly  during  the  months  of  June  and  July  that  they  are 
found  to  be  most  destructive.  Whole  grain-fields  are  sometimes 
laid  waste  by  them.  Cabbage-plants,  till  they  are  grown  to  a con- 
siderable size,  are  very  apt  to  be  cut  off  and  destroyed  by  them. 
Potato- vines,  beans,  beets,  and  various  other  culinary  plants  suffer 
in  the  same  way.  The  products  of  our  flower-gardens  are  not 
spared ; asters,  balsams,  pinks,  and  many  other  kinds  of  flowers  are 
often  shorn  of  their  leaves  and  of  their  central  buds,  by  these  con- 
cealed spoilers. 

There  are  several  species  of  Agrotis , the  larvae  of  which  are  inju- 
rious to  culinary  plants ; but  the  chief  culprit  is  the  same  as  that 
which  is  destructive  to  young  corn.  The  corn-cut  worms  make 
their  appearance  in  great  numbers  at  irregular  periods,  and  confine 
themselves  in  their  devastations  to  no  particular  vegetables,  all  that 
are  succulent  being  relished  by  these  indiscriminate  devourers ; but, 
if  their  choice  is  not  limited,  they  prefer  corn-plants  when  not  more 
than  a few  inches  above  the  earth,  early  sown  buckwheat,  young 
pumpkin  plants,  young  beans,  cabbage-plants,  and  many  other  field 
and  garden  vegetables.  When  first  disclosed  from  the  eggs  they 
subsist  on  the  various  grasses.  They  descend  in  the  ground  on  the 
approach  of  severe  frosts,  and  reappear  in  the  spring  about  half 
grown.  They  seek  their  food  in  the  night  or  in  cloudy  weather, 
and  retire  before  sunrise  into  the  ground,  or  beneath  stones  or  any 
substance  which  can  shelter  them  from  the  rays  of  the  sun  ; here 
they  remain  coiled  up  during  the  day,  except  while  devouring  the 
food  which  they  generally  drag  into  their  places  of  concealment. 
Their  transformation  to  pupae  occurs  at  different  periods,  sometimes 
earlier,  sometimes  later,  according  to  the  forwardness  of  the  season, 
but  usually  not  much  later  than  the  middle  of  July.  The  moths, 
as  well  as  the  larvae,  vary  much  in  the  depth  of  their  color,  from  a 
pale  ash  to  a deep  or  obscure  brown.  The  ordinary  spots  of  the 
upper  wings  of  the  moth  are  always  connected  by  a blackish  line ; 
where  the  color  is  of  the  deepest  shade  these  spots  are  scarcely 
visible,  but  when  the  color  is  lighter  they  are  very  obvious.  This 
moth  is  very  abundant  in  the  New  England  Spates,  from  the  mid- 
dle of  June  till  the  middle  or  end  of  August.  The  fore- wings  are 


INSECTS. 


115 


generally  of  a dark  ash-eolor,  with  only  a very  faint  trace  c i the 
double  transverse  wavy  bands  that  are  found  in  most  species  of 
Agrotis  ; the  two  ordinary  spots  are  small  and  narrow,  the  anterior 
spot  being  oblong  oval,  and  connected  with  the  oblique  kidney- 
shaped spot,  by  a longitudinal  black  line.  The  hind  wings  are 
dirty  brownish  white,  somewhat  darker  behind.  The  head,  the 
collar,  and  the  abdomen  are  chestnut-colored.  It  expands  one  inch 
and  three  quarters.  The  wings,  when  shut,  overlap  on  their  inner 
edges,  and  cover  the  top  of  the  back  so  flatly  and  closely  that  these 
moths  can  get  into  very  narrow  crevices.  During  the  day  they  lie 
hidden  under  the  bark  of  trees,  in  the  chinks  of  fences,  and  even 
under  the  loose  clapboards  of  buildings.  When  the  blinds  of  our 
houses  are  opened  in  the  morning,  a little  swarm  of  these  insects, 
which  had  crept  behind  them  for  concealment,  is  sometimes  ex- 
posed, and  suddenly  aroused  from  their  daily  slumber. 

Among  the  various  remedies  that  have  been  proposed  for  pre- 
venting the  ravages  of  cut-worms  in  wheat  and  corn-fields,  may  be 
mentioned  the  soaking  of  grain,  before  planting,  in  copperas-water 
and  other  solutions  supposed  to  be  disagreeable  to  the  insects ; 
rolling  the  seed  in  lime  or  ashes ; and  mixing  salt  with  the  manure. 
These  may  prevent  wire-worms  and  some  insects  from  destroying 
the  seed ; but  cut-worms  prey  only  on  the  sprouts  and  young 
stalks,  and  do  not  eat  the  seeds.  Such  stimulating  applications 
may  be  of  some  benefit,  by  promoting  a more  rapid  and  vigorous 
growth  of  the  grain,  by  which  means  the  sprouts  will  the  sooner 
become  so  strong  and  rank  as  to  resist  or  escape  the  attacks  of  the 
young  cut-worms.  Fall-plowing  of  sward-lands,  which  are  in- 
tended to  be  sown  with  wheat  or  planted  with  corn  the  year  follow- 
ing, will  turn  up  and  expose  the  insects  to  the  inclemency  of  winter, 
whereby  many  of  them  will  be  killed,  and  will  also  bring  them 
within  reach  of  insect-eating  birds.  But  this  seems  to  be  a doubt- 
ful remedy,  against  which  many  objections  have  been  urged.  The 
most  effectual,  and  not  a laborious  remedy,  even  in  field-cultuie,  is 
to  go  round  every  morning,  and  open  the  earth  at  the  foot  of  the 
plant,  and  you  will  never  foil  to  find  the  worm  at  the  root,  within 
four  inches.  Kill  him,  and  you  will  save  not  only  the  other  plants 
of  your  field,  but,  probably,  many  thousands  in  future  years. 

Plum  Weevil  or  Curculio. — It  is  now  well  known  that  the 
falling  of  unripe  plums,  apricots,  peaches  and  cherries,  is  caused  by 
little  whitish  grubs,  which  bore  into  these  fruits.  The  loss  of  fruit, 
occasioned  by  insects  of  this  kind,  is  frequently  very  great ; and, 


110 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


in  some  of  oi.r  gardens  and  orchards,  the  crop  of  plums  is  often 
entirely  ruined  by  the  depredations  of  grubs,  which  are  the  larvae 
or  young  of  a small  beetle  called  the  Nenuphar  or  plum-weevil,  or 
Curculio.  These  beetles  are  found  as  early  as  the  thirtieth  of  March, 
and  as  late  as  the  tenth  of  June,  and  at  various  intermediate  times, 
according  with  the  forwardness  or  backwardness  of  vegetation  in 
the  spring,  and  have  frequently  been  caught  flying  in  the  middle 
of  the  day.  They  are  from  three  twentieths  to  one  fifth  of  an 
inch  long,  exclusive  of  the  curved  snout,  which  is  rather  longer 
than  the  thorax,  and  is  bent  under  the  breast,  between  the  fore- 
legs, when  at  rest.  Their  color  is  a dark  brown,  variegated  with 
spots  of  white,  ochre-yellow,  and  black.  The  thorax  is  uneven ; 
the  wing-covers  have  several  short  ridges  upon  them,  those  on  the 
middle  of  the  back  forming  two  considerable  humps,  of  a black 
color,  behind  which  there  is  a wide  band  of  ochre-yellow  and 
white.  Each  of  the  thighs  has  two  little  teeth  on  the  under-side. 
They  begin  to  sting  the  plums  as  soon  as  the  fruit  is  set,  and,  as 
some  say,  continue  their  operations  till  the  first  of  August.  After 
making  a suitable  puncture  with  their  snouts,  they  lay  one  egg  in 
each  plum  thus  stung,  and  go  over  the  fruit  on  the  tree  in  this  way 
till  their  store  is  exhausted  ; so  that,  where  these  beetles  abound, 
not  a plum  will  escape  being  punctured.  The  irritation  arising 
from  these  punctures;  and  from  the  gnawings  of  the  grubs  after 
they  are  hatched,  causes  the  young  fruit  to  become  gummy,  dis- 
eased, and  finally  to  drop  before  it  is  ripe.  Meanwhile  the  grub 
comes  to  its  growth,  and,  immediately  after  the  fruit  falls,  burrows 
into  the  ground.  This  may  occur  at  various  times  between  the 
middle  of  June  and  of  August;  and,  in  the  space  of  a little  more 
than  three  weeks  afterwards,  the  insect  completes  its  transforma- 
tions, and  comes  out  of  the  ground  in  the  beetle  form. 

This  same  weevil  attacks  all  our  common  stone-fruits,  such  as 
plums,  peaches,  nectarines,  apricots,  cherries  and  apples  ; and  it  is 
not  at  all  improbable  thal  the  transformations  of  some  of  the  grubs 
may  be  retarded  till  the  winter  has  passed,  analogous  cases  being 
of  frequent  occurrence.  The  plum,  still  more  than  the  cherry  tree, 
is  subject  to  a disease  of  the  small  limbs,  which  shows  itself  in  the 
form  of  large  irregular  warts,  of  a black  color,  as  if  charred.  Grubs, 
apparently  the  same  as  those  that  are  found  in  plums,  have  often 
been  detected  in  these  warts,  which  are  now  generally  supposed  to 
be  produced  by  the  punctures  of  the  beetles,  and  the  residence  of 
the  grubs.  The  seat  of  the  disease  is  in  the  bark.  The  sap  is  di- 


INSECTS. 


117 


verted  from  its  regular  course,  and  is  absorbed  entirely  by  the  bark, 
which  is  very  much  increased  in  thickness  ; the  cuticle  bursts,  the 
swelling  becomes  irregular,  and  is  formed  into  black  lumps,  with  a 
cracked,  uneven,  granulated  surface.  The  wood,  besides  being  de- 
prived of  its  nutriment,  is  very  much  compressed,  and  the  branch 
above  the  tumor  perishes. 

The  final  transformation  of  the  grubs,  living  in  the  fruit,  appears 
to  take  place  at  various  times  during  the  latter  part  of  summer  and 
the  beginning  of  autumn,  when  the  weevil,  finding  no  young  fruit, 
is  probably  obliged  to  lay  its  eggs  in  the  small  branches.  The 
larvae  or  grubs  from  these  eggs  live  in  the  branches  during  the 
winter,  and  are  not  perfected  till  near  the  last  of  the  following 
June.  Should  the  fall  of  the  fruit  occur  late  in  the  autumn,  the 
development  of  the  beetles  will  be  retarded  till  the  next  spring ; 
and  this  is  supposed  to  be  the  origin  of  the  brood  which  stings  the 
fruit. 

The  following,  among  other  remedies  that  have  been  suggested, 
may  be  found  useful  in  checking  the  ravages  of  the  plum-weevil. 
Let  the  trees  be  briskly  shaken  or  suddenly  jarred  every  morning 
and  evening  during  the  time  that  the  insects  appear  in  the  beetle 
form,  and  are  engaged  in  laying  their  eggs.  When  thus  disturbed 
they  contract  their  legs  and  fall ; and,  as  they  do  not  immediately 
attempt  to  fly  or  crawl  away,  they  may  be  caught  in  a sheet  spread 
under  the  tree,  from  which  they  should  be  gathered  into  a large 
wide-mouthed  bottle  or  other  tight  vessel,  and  be  thrown  into  the 
fire.  All  the  fallen  wormy  plums  should  be  immediately  gathered, 
and,  after  they  are  boiled  or  steamed,  to  kill  the  enclosed  grubs, 
they  may  be  given  as  food  to  swine.  The  diseased  excrescences 
should  be  cut  out  and  burned  every  year  before  the  last  of  June. 
The  moose  plum-tree  ( Prunus  Am£ricana),  seems  to  escape  the  at- 
tacks of  insects,  for  no  warts  are  found  upon  it,  even  when  growing 
in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  diseased  foreign  trees.  It  would,  there- 
fore, be  the  best  of  stocks  for  budding  or  engrafting  upon.  It  can 
easily  be  raised  from  the  stone,  and  grows  rapidly,  but  does  not 
attain  a great  size. 

This  plum-weevil,  an  insect  unknown  in  Europe,  when  arrived  at 
maturity,  is  a little,  rough,  dark  brown  or  blackish  beetle,  looking 
like  a dried  bud,  when  it  is  shaken  from  the  trees*,  which  resem- 
blance is  increased  by  its  habit  of  drawing  up  its  legs  and  bending 
its  snout  close  to  the  lower  side  of  its  body,  and  remaining  for  a 
time  without  motion  and  seemingly  lifeless.  In  stinging  the  fruit, 


118 


TIIE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


before  laying  its  eggs,  it  uses  its  sliort  curved  snout,  which  is  armed 
at  the  tip  with  a pair  of  very  small  nippers  ; and  by  means  of  this 
weapon,  't  makes,  in  the  tender  skin  of  the  young  plum  or  apple, 
a crescem -shaped  incision,  similar  to  what  would  be  formed  by  in- 
denting the  fruit  with  the  finger  nail.  Very  rarely  is  there  more 
than  one  incision  made  in  the  same  fruit ; and  in  the  wound,  the 
weevil  lays  only  a single  egg.  The  insect  hatched  from  this  egg 
is  a little  whitish  grub,  destitute  of  feet,  and  very  much  like  a mag- 
got in  appearance,  except  that  it  has  a distinct,  rounded,  light  brown 
head.  It  appears,  furthermore,  that  the  tumors  on  plum  and  on 
cherry  trees  are  infested  not  only  by  these  insects,  but  also  by  an- 
other kind  of  grub,  provided  with  legs,  and  occasionally  by  the 
wood-eating  caterpillars  of  the  JEgeria  exitwsa , or  peach-tree  borer. 
When  the  grubs  of  the  plum- weevil  are  fully  grown,  they  go  intc 
the  ground,  and  are  there  changed  to  chrysalids  of  a white  color, 
having  the  legs  and  wings  free  and  capable  of  some  motion  ; and 
finally  they  leave  the  ground  in  the  form  of  little  beetles,  exactly 
like  those  which  had  previously  stung  the  fruit.  Further  observa- 
tion seems  to  be  wanting  before  it  can  be  proved  that  the  cankerous 
warts  on  plum  and  cherry  trees  arise  from  the  irritating  punctures 
of  the  plum-weevils  and  of  the  other  insects  that  occasionally  make 
these  warts  their  places  of  abode ; although  it  must  be  allowed  that 
the  well-known  production  of  galls  by  insects  on  oak-trees  and  on 
other  plants,  would  lead  us  to  suppose  that  those  of  the  plum-tree 
have  a similar  origin. 

Canker-W orms. — The  insects  called  canker-worms  are  of  a kind 
called  Span-worms,  or  Geometers,  and  of  the  group  Hybernians. 
The  moths,  from  which  they  are  produced,  belong  to  the  genus 
Anisopteryx. 

It  was  formerly  supposed  that  the  canker-worm  moths  came  out 
of  the  ground  only  in  the  spring.  It  is  now  known  that  many 
of  them  rise  in  the  autumn  and  in  the  early  part  of  the  winter, 
and  in  mild  and  open  winters  in  every  month  from  October  to 
March.  They  begin  to  make  their  appearance  after  the  first  hard 
frosts  in  the  autumn,  usually  towards  the  end  of  October,  and  they 
continue  to  come  forth,,  in  greater  or  smaller  numbers,  according 
to  the  mildness  or  severity  of  the  weather  after  the  frosts  have  be- 
gun. Their  general  time  of  rising  is  in  the  spring,  beginning  about 
the  middle  of  March,  but  sometimes  before,  and  sometimes  after 
this  time;  and  they  continue  to  come  forth  for  the  space  of  about 
tb  ree  weeks.  It  has  been  observed  that  there  are  more  females 


INSECTS. 


119 


than  males  among  those  that  appear  in  the  autumn  and  winter, 
and  that  the  males  are  most  abundant  in  the  spring.  The  slug- 
gish females  instinctively  make  their  way  towards  the  nearest  trees, 
and  creep  slowly  up  their  trunks.  In  a few  days  afterwards  they 
are  followed  by  the  winged  and  active  males,  which  flutter  about 
and  accompany  them  in  their  ascent,  during  which  the  insects  pair. 
Soon  after  this,  the  females  lay  their  eggs  upon  the  branches  of  the 
trees,  placing  them  on  their  ends,  close  together  in  rows,  forming 
clusters  of  from  sixty  to  one  hundred  eggs  or  more,  which  is  the 
number  usually  laid  by  each  female.  The  eggs  are  glued  to  each 
other,  and  to  the  bark,  by  a grayish  varnish,  which  is  impervious 
to  water ; and  the  clusters  are  thus  securely  fastened  in  the  forks 
of  the  small  branches,  or  close  to  the  young  twigs  and  buds.  Im- 
mediately after  the  insects  have  thus  provided  for  a succession  of 
their  kind,  they  begin  to  languish,  and  soon  die.  The  eggs  are 
usually  hatched  between  the  first  and  the  middle  of  May,  or  about 
the  time  that  the  red  currant  is  in  blossom,  and  the  young  leaves 
of  the  apple-tree  begin  to  start  from  the  bud  and  grow.  The  little 
canker-worms,  upon  making  their  escape  from  the  eggs,  gather 
upon  the  tender  leaves,  and,  on  the  occurrence  of  cold  and  wet 
weather,  creep  for  shelter  into  the  bosom  of  the  bud,  or  into  the 
flowers,  when  the  latter  appear.  Where  these  bisects  prevail,  they 
are  most  abundant  on  apple  and  elm  trees ; but  cherry,  plum, 
and  lime  trees,  and  some  other  cultivated  and  native  trees,  as  well 
as  many  shrubs,  often  suffer  severely  from  their  voracity.  The  leaves 
first  attacked  will  be  found  pierced  with  small  holes  ; these  become 
larger  and  more  irregular  when  the  canker-worms  increase  in  size ; 
and,  at  last,  the  latter  eat  nearly  all  the  pulpy  parts  of  the  leaves, 
leaving  little  more  than  the  midrib  and  veins.  A very  great  dif- 
ference of  color  is  observable  among  canker-worms  of  different  ages, 
and  even  among  those  of  the  same  age  and  size.  It  is  possible  that 
some  of  these  variations  may  arise  from  a difference  of  species ; but 
it  is  also  true  that  the  same  species  varies  much  in  color.  When 
very  young,  they  have  two  minute  warts  on  the  top  of  the  last 
ring  ; and  they  are  generally  of  a blackish  or  dusky  brown  color, 
witli  a yellowish  stripe  on  each  side  of  the  body  ; there  are  two 
whitish  bands  across  the  head ; and  the  belly  is  also  whitish.  When 
fully  grown,  these  individuals  become  ash-colored  on  the  back,  and 
black  on  the  sides,  below  which  the  pale  yellowish  line  remains. 
Some  are  found  of  a dull  greenish  yellow  and  others  of  a clay  color, 
with  slender  interrupted  blackish  lines  on  the  sides,  and  small  spots 


120 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


of  the  same  color  on  the  back.  Some  are  green,  with  two  white 
stripes  < o the  back.  The  head  and  the  feet  partake  of  the  general 
color  of  the  body ; the  belly  is  paler.  When  not  eating,  they  re- 
main stretched  out  at  full  length,  and  resting  on  their  fore  and  hind 
legs,  beneath  the  leaves.  When  fully  grown  and  well  fed,  they 
measure  nearly  or  quite  one  inch  in  length.  They  leave  off  eating 
when  about  four  weeks  old,  and  begin  to  quit  the  trees ; some  creep 
down  by  the  trunk,  but  great  numbers  let  themselves  down  by  their 
threads  from  the  branches,  their  instincts  prompting  them  to  get  to 
the  ground  by  the  most  direct  and  easiest  course.  When  thus  de- 
scending, and  suspended  in  great  numbers  under  the  limbs  of  trees 
overhanging  the  road,  they  are  often  swept  off  by  passing  carriages, 
and  are  thus  conveyed  to  other  places.  After  reaching  the  ground, 
they  immediately  burrow  in  the  earth,  to  the  depth  of  from  two  to 
six  inches,  unless  prevented  by  weakness  or  the  nature  of  the  soil. 
In  the  latter  case,  they  die,  or  undergo  their  transformations  on  the 
surface.  In  the  former,  they  make  little  cavities  or  cells  in  the 
ground,  by  turning  round  repeatedly  and  fastening  the  loose  grains 
of  earth  about  them  with  a few  silken  threads.  Within  twenty- 
four  hours  afterwards,  they  are  changed  to  chrysalids  in  their  cells. 
The  chrysalis  is  of  a light  brown  color,  and  varies  in  size  according 
to  the  sex  of  the  insect  contained  in  it ; that  of  the  female  being 
the  largest,  and  being  destitute  of  a covering  for  wings,  which  is 
found  in  the  chrysalis  of  the  males.  The  occurrence  of  mild 
weather  after  a severe  frost  stimulates  some  of  these  insects  to  burst 
their  chrysalis  skins  and  come  forth  in  the  perfected  state ; and 
this  last  transformation,  as  before  stated,  may  take  place  in  the  au- 
tumn, or  in  the  course  of  the  winter,  as  well  as  in  the  spring ; it  is 
also  retarded,  in  some  individuals,  for  a year  or  more  beyond  the 
usual  time.  They  come  out  of  the  ground  mostly  in  the  night, 
when  they  may  be  seen  struggling  through  the  grass  as  far  as  the 
limbs  extend  from  the  body  of  the  trees  under  which  they  had  been 
buried.  As  the  females  are  destitute  of  wings,  they  are  not  able  to 
wander  far  from  the  trees  upon  which  they  had  lived  in  the  cater- 
pillar state.  Canker-worms  are  therefore  naturally  confined  to  a 
very  limited  space. 

In  order  to  protect  our  trees  from  the  ravages  of  canker-worms, 
where  these  looping  spoilers  abound,  it  should  be  our  aim,  if  pos- 
sible, to  prevent  the  wingless  females  from  ascending  the  trees  to 
deposit  their  eggs.  This  can  be  done  by  the  application  of  tar 
around  the  body  of  the  tree,  either  directly  on  the  bark,  as  has 


INSECTS. 


121 


been  the  moat  common  practice,  or,  what  is  better,  over  a broad 
belt  of  clay-mortar,  or  on  strips  of  old  canvass  or  of  strong  paper, 
from  six  to  twelve  inches  wide,  fastened  around  the  trunk  with 
strings.  The  tar  must  be  applied  as  early  as  the  first  of  November, 
and  perhaps  in  October,  and  it  should  be  renewed  daily  as  long  as 
the  insects  continue  rising ; after  which  the  bands  may  be  removed, 
and  the  tar  should  be  entirely  scraped  from  the  bark.  When  all 
this  has  been  properly  and  seasonably  done,  it  has  proved  effectual. 
The  time,  labor,  and  expense  attending  the  use  of  tar,  and  the  in- 
jury that  it  does  to  the  trees  when  allowed  to  run  and  remain  on 
the  bark,  have  caused  many  persons  to  neglect  this  method,  and 
some  to  try  various  modifications  of  it,  and  other  expedients.  Among 
the  modifications  may  be  mentioned  a horizontal  and  close-fitting 
collar  of  boards,  fastened  around  the  trunk,  and  smeared  beneath 
with  tar ; or  four  boards,  nailed  together,  like  a box  without  top  or 
bottom,  around  the  base  of  the  tree,  to  receive  the  tar  on  the  out- 
side. These  can  be  used  to  protect  a few  choice  trees  in  a garden, 
or  around  a house  or  a public  square,  but  will  be  found  too  expen- 
sive to  be  applied  to  any  great  extent.  Collars  of  tin-plate,  fas- 
tened around  the  trees,  and  sloping  downwards  like  an  inverted 
tunnel,  have  been  proposed,  upon  the  supposition  that  the  moths 
would  not  be  able  to  creep  in  an  inverted  position,  beneath  the 
smooth  and  sloping  surface.  This  method  will  also  prove  too  ex- 
pensive for  general  adoption,  even  should  it  be  found  to  answer  the 
purpose.  A belt  of  cotton-wool,  which  it  has  been  thought  would 
entangle  the  feet  of  the  insects,  and  thus  keep  them  from  ascending 
the  trees,  has  not  proved  an  effectual  bar  to  them.  Little  square 
or  circular  troughs  of  tin  or  of  lead,  filled  with  cheap  fish  oil,  and 
placed  around  the  trees,  three  feet  or  more  above  the  surface  of  the 
ground,  with  a stuffing  of  cloth,  hay,  or  sea-weed  between  them  and 
the  trunk,  have  long  been  used  with  good  success ; and  the  only 
objections  to  them  are  the  cost  of  the  troughs,  the  difficulty  of  fixing 
and  keeping  them  in  their  places,  and  the  injury  suffered  by  the 
trees  when  the  oil  is  washed  or  blown  out  and  falls  upon  the  bark. 
These  troughs  ought  not  to  be  nailed  to  the  trees,  but  should  be 
supported  by  a few  wooden  wedges  driven  between  them  and  the 
trunks.  A stuffing  of  cloth,  cotton,  or  tow,  should  never  be  used ; 
sea-weed  and  fine  hay,  which  will  not  absorb  the  oil,  are  much 
better.  Before  the  troughs  are  fastened  and  filled,  the  body  of  the 
tree  should  be  well  coated  with  clay-paint  or  white-wash,  to  absorb 
the  oil  that  may  fall  upon  it.  Care  should  be  taken  to  renew  the 
6 


122 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


oil  as  of ,£ii  as  it  escapes  or  becomes  filled  with  the  insects.  These 
troughs  will  be  found  more  economical  and  less  troublesome  than 
the  application  of  tar,  and  may  safely  be  recommended  and  em- 
ployed, if  proper  attention  is  given  to  the  precautions  above  named. 
Some  persons  fasten  similar  troughs,  to  contain  oil,  around  the  outer 
sides  of  an  open  box  enclosing  the  base  of  the  tree,  and  a projecting 
ledge  is  nailed  on  the  edge  of  the  box  to  shed  the  rain  ; by  this 
contrivance,  all  danger  of  hurting  the  tree  with  the  oil  is  entirely 
avoided.  Let  a piece  of  India  rubber  be  burnt  over  a gallipot,  into 
which  it  will  gradually  drop  in  the  condition  of  a viscid  juice,  which 
state,  it  appears,  it  will  always  retain.  Having  melted  the  India 
rubber,  let  a piece  of  cord  or  worsted  be  smeared  with  it,  and  then 
tied  several  times  round  the  trunk.  The  melted  substance  is  so 
very  sticky,  that  the  insects  will  be  prevented,  and  generally  cap- 
tured, in  their  attempts  to  pass  over  it.  It  has  been  suggested  that 
the  melted  rubber  might  be  applied  immediately  to  the  bark  with- 
out injuring  the  trees.  A little  conical  mound  of  sand  surrounding 
the  base  of  the  tree  is  found  to  be  impassable  to  the  moths,  so  long 
as  the  sand  remains  dry  ; but  they  easily  pass  over  it  when  the 
sand  is  wet,  and  they  come  out  of  the  ground  in  wet,  as  often  as  in 
dry  weather. 

Some  attempts  have  been  made  to  destroy  the  canker-worms 
after  they  were  hatched  from  the  eggs,  and  were  dispersed  over  the 
leaves  of  the  trees.  It  is  said  that  some  persons  have  saved  their 
trees  from  these  insects  by  freely  dusting  air-slacked  lime  over  them 
while  the  leaves  were  wet  with  dew.  Showering  the  trees  with 
mixtures  that  are  found  useful  to  destroy  other  insects,  has  been 
tried  by  a few,  and,  although  attended  with  a good  deal  of  trouble 
and  expense,  it  may  be  worth  our  while  to  apply  such  remedies 
upon  small  and  choice  trees.  A mixture  of  water  and  oil-soap  (an 
article  to  be  procured  from  the  manufactories  where  whale  oil  is 
purified,)  in  the  proportion  of  one  pound  of  the  soap  to  seven  gal- 
lons of  water  has  been  used ; this  liquor,  when  thrown  on  the  trees 
with  a garden  engine,  will  destroy  the  canker-worm  and  many  other 
insects,  without  injuring  the  foliage  of  the  fruit.  Jarring  or  shaking 
the  limbs  of  the  trees  will  disturb  the  canker-worms,  and  cause 
many  of  them  to  spin  down,  when  their  threads  may  be  broken 
off  with  a pole ; and  if  the  troughs  around  the  trees  are  at  the  same 
time  replenished  with  oil,  or  the  tar  is  again  applied,  the  insects 
will  be  caught  in  their  attempts  to  creep  up  the  trunks.  In  the 
same  way,  also,  those  that  are  coming  down  the  trunks  to  go  into 


INSECTS. 


123 


the  ground  will  be  caught  and  killed.  If  greater  pains  were  to  be 
taken  to  destroy  the  insects  in  the  caterpillar  state,  their  numbers 
would  soon  greatly  diminish. 

Even  after  they  have  left  the  trees,  have  gone  into  the  ground, 
and  have  changed  their  forms,  they  are  not  wholly  beyond  the 
reach  of  means  for  destroying  them.  In  orchards,  in  the  autumn, 
root  up  and  kill  great  numbers  of  the  chrysalids  of  the  canker- 
worms.  Some  persons  have  recommended  digging  or  plowing 
under  the  trees,  in  the  autumn,  with  the  hope  of  crushing  some  of 
the  chrysalids  by  so  doing,  and  of  exposing  others  to  perish  with 
the  cold  of  the  following  winter.  If  hogs  are  then  allowed  to  go 
among  the  trees,  and  a few  grains  of  corn  are  scattered  on  the 
loosened  soil,  these  animals  will  eat  many  of  the  chrysalids  as  well 
as  the  corn,  and  will  crush  others  with  their  feet. 

Apple,  elm,  and  lime-trees,  are  sometimes  injured  a good  deal 
by  another  kind  of  span-worm,  larger  than  the  canker-worm,  and 
very  different  from  it  in  appearance.  It  is  of  a bright  yellow  color, 
with  ten  crinkled  black  lines  along  the  top  of  the  back ; the  head 
is  rust-colored ; and  the  belly  is  paler  than  the  rest  of  the  body. 
When  fully  grown,  it  measures  about  one  inch  and  a quarter  in 
length.  It  often  rests  with  the  middle  of  the  body  curved  upwa  ris 
a little,  and  sometimes  even  without  the  support  of  its  fore-legs. 
The  leaves  of  the  lime  seem  to  be  its  natural  and  favorite  food,  for 
it  may  be  found  on  this  tree  every  year ; but  is  seen  in  considerable 
abundance,  with  common  canker-worms,  on  other  trees.  It  ii 
hatched  rather  later,  and  does  not  leave  the  trees  quite  so  soon  as 
the  latter.  About  or  soon  after  the  middle  of  June  it  spins  down 
from  the  trees,  goes  into  the  ground,  and  changes  to  a chrysalis  in 
a little  cell  five  or  six  inches  below  the  surface  ; and  from  this  it 
comes  out  in  the  moth  state  towards  the  end  of  October  or  during 
the  month  of  November.  More  rarely  its  last  transformation  is  re- 
tarded till  the  spring.  The  females  are  wingless  and  grub-like,  with 
slender  thread-shaped  antennae.  As  soon  as  they  leave  the  ground 
they  creep  up  the  trees,  and  lay  their  eggs  in  little  clusters,  here 
and  there  on  the  branches. 

As  these  span-worms  appear  at  the  same  time  as  canker-worms, 
resemble  them  in  their  habits,  and  often  live  on  the  same  trees,  they 
can  be  kept  in  check  by  such  means  as  are  found  useful  when  em- 
ployed against  canker-worms. 

The  Hop  Caterpillar. — The  hop-vine  is  often  infested  by  great 
numbers  of  caterpillars  called  Herminians,  of  the  group  Pyralides. 


124 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


They  eat  large  holes  in  the  leaves,  and  thereby  sometimes  greatly 
injure  the  plant.  Caterpillars  of  this  kind  have  also  been  observed 
on  the  hop  in  Europe,  from  whence  ours  may  have  been  introduced ; 
but  until  specimens  from  Europe  and  this  country  are  compared 
together,  in  all  their  states,  it  will  be  well  to  consider  the  latter  as 
distinct.  Our  hop-vine  caterpillars  are  false-loopers,  bending  up  the 
back  a little  when  they  creep,  because  the  first  pair  of  prop-legs, 
found  in  other  caterpillars,  is  wanting  in  them.  The  rings  of  their 
bodies  are  rather  prominent,  the  cross-lines  between  them  being 
deep.  They  are  of  a green  color,  with  two  longitudinal  white  lines 
along  the  back,  a dark  green  fine  in  the  middle  between  them,  and 
an  indistinct  whitish  line  on  each  side  of  the  body.  The  head  is 
green,  and  very  regularly  spotted  with  minute  black  dots,  from  each 
of  which  arises  a very  short  hair.  There  are  similar  dots  and  hairs 
arranged  in  two  transverse  rows  on  each  of  the  rings.  When  dis- 
turbed they  bend  their  bodies  suddenly  and  with  a jerk,  first  on 
one  side  and  then  on  the  other,  each  time  leaping  to  a considerable 
distance,  so  that  it  is  difficult  to  catch  or  hold  them.  They  make 
no  webs  on  the  leaves,  and  do  not  suspend  themselves  by  silken 
threads  like  the  Geometers ; but  they  are  very  active,  creep  fast, 
and  soon  get  upon  the  leaves  again  after  leaping  off.  When  fully 
grown  they  are  about  eight-tenths  of  an  inch  long.  They  then  form 
a thin,  imperfect,  silky  cocoon  within  a folded  leaf,  or  in  some 
crevice  or  sheltered  spot,  and  are  changed  to  brownish  chrysalids, 
which  present  nothing  remarkable  in  their  appearance.  Three 
weeks  afterwards  the  moths  come  forth  from  these  cocoons.  There 
are  two  broods  of  these  insects  in  the  course  of  the  summer.  The 
caterpillars  of  the  first  brood  appear  in  May  and  June,  and  are 
transformed  to  moths  towards  the  end  of  June,  and  during  the  early 
part  of  July.  Those  of  the  second  brood  appear  in  July  and  Au- 
gust, and  are  changed  to  moths  in  September.  The  insects  of  the 
second  brood  are  much  the  most  numerous  usually,  and  do  much 
more  damage  to  the  hop-vine  than  the  others. 

The  means  for  destroying  the  hop-vine  caterpillars  are  showering 
or  syringing  the  plants  with  strong  soap-suds,  or  with  a solution  of 
oil-soap  in  water,  in  the  proportion  of  two  pounds  of  the  soap  to 
fourteen  or  fifteen  gallons  of  water. 

The  Bee-Moth. — The  bee-moth  belongs  to  the  group  of  Cram- 
bians  of  the  Tinese.  Doubtless  it  was  first  brought  to  this  country, 
with  the  common  hive-bee,  from  Europe,  where  it  is  very  abundant, 
and  does  nmch  mischief  in  hives.  Very  few  of  the  Tincce  exceed 


INSECTS. 


125 


or  even  equal  it  in  size.  In  its  perfect  or  adult  state  it  is  a winged 
moth  or  miller,  measuring,  from  the  head  to  the  tip  of  the  closed 
wings,  from  five  eighths  to  three  quarters  of  an  inch  in  length,  and 
its  wings  expand  from  one  inch  and  one  tenth  to  one  inch  and  four 
tenths.  The  feelers  are  two  in  number ; and  the  tongue  is  very- 
short,  and  hardly  visible.  The  fore-wings  shut  together  flatly  on 
the  top  of  the  back,  slope  steeply  downwards  at  the  sides,  and  are 
turned  up  at  the  end,  somewhat  like  the  tail  of  a fowl.  The  male 
is  of  a dusty  gray  color ; his  fore-wings  are  more  or  less  glossed  and 
streaked  with  purple-brown  on  the  outer  edge,  they  have  a few 
dark  brown  spots  near  the  inner  margin,  and  they  are  scalloped  or 
notched  inwardly  at  the  end ; his  hind-wings  are  light  yellowish- 
gray,  with  whitish  fringes.  The  female  is  much  larger  than  the 
male,  and  much  darker  colored ; her  fore-wings  are  proportionally 
longer,  not  so  deeply  notched  on  the  outer  hind  margin,  and  not 
so  much  turned  up  at  the  end ; they  are  more  tinged  with  purple- 
brown,  sprinkled  with  darker  spots ; and  the  hind-wings  are  dirty 
or  grayish  white.  There  are  two  broods  of  these  insects  in  the 
course  of  a year.  Some  winged  moths  of  the  first  brood  begin  to 
appear  towards  the  end  of  April,  or  early  in  May ; those  of  the 
second  brood  are  most  abundant  in  August ; but  between  these 
periods,  and  even  later,  others  come  to  perfection,  and  consequently 
some  of  them  may  be  found  during  the  greater  part  of  the  summer. 
By  day  they  remain  quiet  on  the  sides  or  in  the  crevices  of  the  bee- 
house  ; but,  if  disturbed  at  this  time,  they  open  their  wings  a little, 
and  spring  or  glide  swiftly  away,  so  that  it  is  very  difficult  to  seize 
or  to  hold  them.  In  the  evening  they  take  wing,  when  the  bees 
are  at  rest,  and  hover  around  the  hive,  till,  having  found  the  door, 
they  go  in  and  lay  their  eggs.  Those  that  are  prevented  by  the 
crowd,  or  by  any  other  cause,  from  getting  within  the  hive,  lay 
their  eggs  on  the  outside,  or  on  the  stand,  and  the  little  worm-like 
caterpillars  hatched  therefrom  easily  creep  into  the  hive  through  the 
cracks,  or  gnaw  a passage  for  themselves  under  the  edges  of  it. 
These  caterpillars,  at  first,  are  not  thicker  than  a thread.  They 
have  sixteen  legs.  Their  bodies  are  soft  and  tender,  and  of  a yel- 
lowish white  color,  sprinkled  with  a few  little  brownish  dots,  from 
each  of  which  proceeds  a short  hair ; their  heads  are  brown  and 
shelly,  and  there  are  two  brown  spots  on  the  top  of  the  first  ring. 
Weak  as  they  are,  and  unprovided  with  any  natural  means  of  de- 
fence, destined,  too,  to  dwell  in  the  midst  of  the  populous  hive,  sur- 
rounded by  watchful  and  well-armed  enemies,  at  whose  expense 


126 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


they  live,  they  are  taught  how  to  shield  themselves  against  the 
vengeance  of  the  bees,  and  pass  safely  and  unseen  in  every  direc- 
tion through  the  waxen  cells,  which  they  break  down  and  destroy . 
Beeswax  is  their  only  food,  and  they  prefer  the  old  to  the  new 
comb,  and  are  always  found  most  numerous  in  the  upper  part  of 
the  hive,  where  the  oldest  honeycomb  is  lodged.  It  is  not  a little 
wonderful,  that  these  insects  should  be  able  to  get  any  nourishment 
from  wax,  a substance  which  other  animals  cannot  digest  at  all ; 
but  they  are  created  with  an  appetite  for  it,  and  with  such  extraor- 
dinary powers  of  digestion,  that  they  thrive  well  upon  this  kind  of 
food.  As  soon  as  they  are  hatched  they  begin  to  spin  ; and  each 
one  makes  for  itself  a tough  silken  tube,  wherein  it  can  easily  turn 
around  and  move  backwards  or  forwards  at  pleasure.  During  the 
day  they  remain  concealed  in  their  silken  tubes ; but  at  night,  when 
the  bees  cannot  see  them,  they  come  partly  out,  and  devour  the 
wax  within  their  reach.  As  they  increase  in  size,  they  lengthen 
and  enlarge  their  dwellings,  and  cover  them  on  the  outside  with  a 
coating  of  grains  of  wax  mixed  with  their  own  castings,  which  re- 
semble gunpowder.  Protected  by  this  coating  from  the  stings  of 
the  bees,  they  work  their  way  through  the  combs,  gnaw  them  to 
pieces,  and  fill  the  hive  with  their  filthy  webs ; till  at  last  the  dis- 
couraged bees,  whose  diligence  and  skill  are  of  no  more  use  to  them 
in  contending  with  their  unseen  foes,  than  their  superior  size  and 
powerful  weapons,  are  compelled  to  abandon  their  perishing  brood 
and  their  wasted  stores,  and  leave  the  desolated  hive  to  the  sole 
possession  of  the  miserable  spoilers.  These  caterpillars  grow  to  the 
length  of  an  inch  or  a little  more,  and  come  to  their  full  size  in 
about  three  weeks.  They  then  spin  their  cocoons,  which  are  strong 
silken  pods,  of  an  oblong  oval  shape,  and  about  one  inch  in  length, 
and  are  often  clustered  together  in  great  numbers  in  the  top  of  the 
hive.  Some  time  afterwards,  the  insects  in  these  cocoons  change 
to  chrysalids  of  a light  brown  color,  rough  on  the  back,  and  with 
an  elevated  dark  brown  line  upon  it  from  one  end  to  the  other. 
When  this  transformation  happens  in  the  autumn,  the  insects  re- 
main without  further  change  till  the  spring,  and  then  burst  open 
their  cocoons,  and  come  forth  with  wings.  Those  which  become 
chrysalids  in  the  early  part  of  summer  are  transformed  to  winged 
moths  fourteen  days  afterwards,  and  immediately  pair,  lay  their 
eggs,  and  die. 

Bees  suffer  most  from  the  depredations  of  these  insects  in  hot  and 
dry  summers.  Strong  and  healthy  swarms,  provided  with  a con* 


INSECTS. 


127 


stant  supply  of  food  near  home,  more  often  escape  than  small  and 
weak  ones.  When  the  moth-worms  have  established  themselves 
in  a hive,  their  presence  is  made  known  to  us  by  the  little  frag- 
ments of  wax  and  the  black  grains  scattered  by  them  over  the  floor. 
Means  should  then  be  taken,  without  delay,  to  dislodge  the  depre- 
dators and  invigorate  the  swarm.  Kollar  states  that  there  is  but 
one  sure  method  of  clearing  bee-hives  of  the  moth,  and  this  is  to 
look  for  and  destroy  the  caterpillars  or  moth-worms  and  the  chrysa- 
lids ; and  he  advises  that  the  hives  should  be  examined,  for  this 
purpose,  once  a week,  and  that  all  the  webs  and  cocoons,  with  the 
insects  in  them,  should  be  taken  out  and  destroyed.  At  all  events, 
the  examination  ought  to  be  made  every  year,  early  in  September, 
when  the  cocoons  will  be  found  in  greater  numbers  than  at  any 
other  time,  and  should  be  carefully  removed  and  burned.  The 
winged  moths  are  very  fond  of  sweets ; and  if  shallow  vessels,  con- 
taining a mixture  of  honey  or  sugar,  with  vinegar  and  water,  are 
placed  near  the  bee-house  in  the  evening,  the  moths  will  get  into 
them  and  be  drowned.  In  this  way  great  numbers  may  be  caught 
every  night.  Several  kinds  of  hives  and  bee-houses  have  been  con- 
trived and  recommended,  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  out  the  bee- 
moth  ; but  it  does  not  appear  that  any  of  them  entirely  supersede 
the  necessity  for  the  measures  above  recommended. 

Grain  Moths. — The  various  kinds  of  destructive  moths,  found 
in  houses,  stores,  barns,  granaries,  breweries,  and  mills,  are  mostly 
very  small  insects  ; the  largest  of  them,  when  arrived  at  maturity, 
expanding  their  wings  only  about  eight  tenths  of  an  inch.  The 
ravages  of  some  of  these  little  creatures  are  too  well  known  to  need 
a particular  description.  Among  them  may  be  mentioned  the  grain- 
moth  (T.  grunella ),  with  some  others  belonging  to  a group,  which 
may  be  called  Tineans  (Tinead^e),  and  the  Angoumois  grain-moth 
(Anacampsis  cerealello. :,)  both  of  wrhich  are  to  be  included  among  the 
Yponomeutians. 

Stored  grain  is  exposed  to  much  injury  from  the  depredations 
of  two  little  moths,  in  Europe,  and  is  attacked  in  the  same  way, 
and  apparently  by  the  same  insects,  in  this  country. 

The  European  grain-moth  ( Tinea,  granella),  in  its  perfected  state, 
is  a winged  insect,  between  three  and  four  tenths  of  an  inch  long 
from  the  head  to  the  tip  of  its  wings,  and  expands  six  tenths  of  an 
inch.  It  has  a whitish  tuft  on  its  forehead ; its  long  and  narrow 
wings  cover  its  back  like  a sloping  roof,  are  a little  turned  up  be- 
hind, and  are  edged  with  a wide  fringe.  Its  fore-wings  are  glossy 


128 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


like  satin,  and  are  marbled  with  white  or  gray,  light  brown,  and 
dark  brown  or  blackish  spots,  and  there  is  always  one  dark  square 
spot  near  the  middle  of  the  outer  edge.  Its  hind-wings  are  black- 
ish. Some  of  these  winged  moths  appear  in  May,  others  in  July 
and  August,  at  which  times  they  lay  their  eggs ; for  there  are  two 
broods  of  them  in  the  course  of  the  year.  The  young  from  the 
first  laid  eggs  come  to  their  growth  and  finish  their  transforma- 
tions in  six  weeks  or  two  months;  the  others  live  through  the 
winter,  and  turn  to  winged  moths  in  the  following  spring.  The 
young  moth-worms  do  not  burrow  into  the  grain,  as  has  been  as- 
serted by  some  writers,  who  seem  to  have  confounded  them  with 
the  Angoumois  grain-worms  ; but,  as  soon  as  they  are  hatched, 
they  begin  to  gnaw  the  grain  and  cover  themselves  with  the  frag- 
ments, which  they  line  with  a silken  web.  As  they  increase  in  size 
they  fasten  together  several  grains  with  their  webs,  so  as  to  make  a 
larger  cavity,  wherein  they  live.  After  a while,  becoming  uneasy 
in  their  confined  habitations,  they  come  out,  and  wander  over  the 
grain,  spinning  their  threads  as  they  go,  till  they  have  found  a 
suitable  place  wherein  to  make  their  cocoons.  Thus,  wheat,  rye, 
barley,  and  oats,  all  of  which  they  attack,  will  be  found  full  of  lumps 
of  grains  cemented  together  by  these  grain-worms ; and  when  they 
are  very  numerous,  the  whole  surface  of  the  grain  in  the  bin  will  be 
covered  with  a thick  crust  of  webs  and  of  adhering  grains.  These 
destructive  grain-worms  are  really  soft  and  naked  caterpillars,  of  a 
cylindrical  shape,  tapering  a little  at  each  end,  and  are  provided 
with  sixteen  legs,  the  first  three  pairs  of  which  are  conical  and 
jointed,  and  the  others  fleshy  and  wart-like.  "When  fully  grown, 
they  measure  four  or  five  tenths  of  an  inch  in  length,  and  are  of  a 
light  ochre  or  buff  color,  with  a reddish  head.  When  about  six 
weeks  old  they  leave  the  grain,  and  get  into  cracks,  or  around  the 
sides  of  corn-bins,  and  each  one  then  makes  itself  a little  oval  pod 
or  cocoon,  about  as  large  as  a grain  of  wheat.  The  insects  of  the 
first  brood,  as  before  said,  come  out  of  them  cocoons,  in  the  winged 
form,  in  J uly  and  August,  and  lay  their  eggs  for  another  brood : 
the  others  remain  unchanged  in  their  cocoons,  through  the  winter, 
and  take  the  chrysalis  form  in  March  or  April  following.  Three 
weeks  afterwards,  the  shining  brown  chrysalis  forces  itself  part  way 
out  of  the  cocoon,  by  the  help  of  some  little  sharp  points  on  its  tail, 
and  bursts  open  at  the  other  end,  so  as  to  allow  the  moth  therein 
confined  to  come  forth. 

There  is  another  grain-moth,  which,  at  various  times,  has  been 


INSECTS. 


129 


found  to  be  more  destructive  in  granaries,  in  some  provinces  of 
France,  than  the  preceding  kind.  It  is  the  Angoumois  moth  (. Ana - 
campsis  ? cerealella ),  an  insect  evidently  belonging  to  the  family  of 
Yponomeutians.  The  winged  moths  of  this  group  have  only  two 
visible  feelers,  and  these  are  generally  long,  slender,  and  curved  over 
their  heads.  Their  narrow  wings  most  often  overlap  each  other, 
and  cover  their  backs  horizontally  when  shut.  The  Angoumois 
grain-moth  probably  belongs  to  the  modern  genus  A nacampsis.  In 
the  year  1768,  Colonel  Landon  Carter,  of  Sabine  Hall,  Virginia, 
communicated  to  the  American  Philosophical  Society  at  Philadel- 
phia, some  interesting  “ Observations  concerning  the  Fly- weevil  that 
destroys  wheat.”  The  Angoumois  moth,  or  Anammpm  cerealella , 
in  its  perfected  state,  is  a four-winged  insect,  about  three  eighths  of 
an  inch  long,  when  its  wings  are  shut.  It  has  a pair  of  tapering 
curved  feelers,  turned  over  its  head.  Its  upper  wings  are  narrow, 
of  a light  brown  color,  without  spots,  and  have  the  lustre  of  satin  ; 
they  cover  the  body  horizontally  above,  but  droop  a little  at  the 
sides.  The  lower  wings  and  the  rest  of  the  body  are  ash-colored. 
This  moth  lays  its  eggs,  which  vary  in  number  from  sixty  to  ninety, 
in  clusters,  on  the  ears  of  wheat,  rye,  and  barley,  most  often  while 
these  plants  are  growing  in  the  field,  and  the  ears  are  young  and 
tender ; sometimes  also  on  stored  grain  in  the  autumn.  Hence  it 
appears  that  they  breed  twice  a year ; the  insects  from  the  eggs 
laid  in  the  early  part  of  summer,  coming  to  perfection  and  provi- 
ding for  another  brood  of  moth-worms  in  the  autumn.  The  little 
worm-like  caterpillars,  as  soon  as  they  are  hatched,  disperse,  and 
each  one  selects  a single  grain,  into  which  it  burrows  immediately 
at  the  most  tender  part,  and  remains  concealed  therein  after  the 
grain  is  harvested.  It  devours  the  mealy  substance  within  the  hull ; 
and  this  destruction  goes  on  so  secretly,  that  it  can  only  be  detected 
by  the  softness  of  the  grain  or  the  loss  of  its  weight.  When  fully 
grown  this  caterpillar  is  not  more  than  one  fifth  of  an  inch  long.  It 
is  of  a white  color,  with  a brownish  head ; and  it  has  six  small 
jointed  legs,  and  ten  extremely  small  wart-like  proplegs.  Duhamel 
has  represented  it  as  having  two  little  horns  just  behind  the  head,  and 
two  short  bristles  at  the  end  of  its  tapering  body.  Having  eaten 
out  the  heart  of  the  grain,  which  is  just  enough  for  all  its  wants,  it 
spins  a silken  web  or  curtain  to  divide  the  hollow,  lengthwise,  into 
two  unequal  parts,  the  smaller  containing  the  rejected  fragments 
of  its  food,  and  the  larger  cavity  serving  instead  of  a cocoon,  wherein 
the  insect  undergoes  its  transformations.  Before  turning  to  a chry- 
6* 


130 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


salis  it  gnaws  a small  hole  nearly  or  quite  through  the  hull,  and 
sometimes  also  through  the  chaffy  covering  of  the  grain,  through 
which  it  can  make  its  escape  easily  when  it  becomes  a winged  moth. 
The  insects  of  the  first,  or  summer  brood,  come  to  maturity  in  about 
three  weeks,  remain  but  a short  time  in  the  chrysalis  state,  and 
turn  to  winged  moths  in  the  autumn,  and  at  this  time  may  be 
found,  in  the  evening,  in  great  numbers,  laying  their  eggs  on  the 
Grain  stored  in  barns  and  granaries.  The  moth-worms  of  the 
second  brood  remain  in  the  grain  through  the  winter,  and  do  not 
change  to  winged  insects  till  the  following  summer,  when  they  come 
out,  fly  into  the  fields  in  the  night,  and  lay  their  eggs  on  the  young 
ears  of  the  growing  grain.  When  damaged  grain  is  sown  it  comes 
up  very  thin ; the  infected  kernels  never  sprout,  but  the  insects 
lodged  in  them  remain  alive,  finish  their  transformations  in  the  field, 
and  in  due  time  come  out  of  the  ground  in  the  winged  form. 

It  has  been  proved  by  experience  that  the  ravages  of  the  two 
kinds  of  grain-moths,  whose  history  has  been  now  given,  can  be 
effectually  checked  by  drying  the  damaged  grain  in  an  oven  or 
kiln  ; and  that  a heat,  of  one  hundred  and  sixty-seven  degrees,  by 
Fahrenheit’s  thermometer,  continued  during  twelve  hours,  will  kill 
the  insects  in  all  their  forms.  Indeed  the  heat  may  be  reduced  to 
one  hundred  and  four  degrees,  with  the  same  effect,  but  the  grain 
must  then  be  exposed  to  it  for  the  space  of  two  days.  The  other 
means,  that  have  been  employed  for  the  preservation  of  grain  from 
these  destructive  moths,  it  is  unnecessary  to  describe ; they  are 
probably  well  known  to  most  of  our  farmers  and  millers,  and  are 
rarely  so  effectual  as  the  process  above  mentioned. 

Hessian  Fly. — Under  the  name  of  Diptera,  signifying  two 
winged,  are  included  all  the  insects  that  have  only  two  wings,  and 
are  provided  with  two  little  knobbed  threads  in  the  place  of  hind- 
wings,  and  a mouth  formed  for  sucking  or  lapping.  Various  kinds 
of  gnats  and  of  flies  are  therefore  the  insects  belonging  to  this  order. 
The  proboscis  or  sucker,  wherewith  they  take  their  food,  is  placed 
under  the  head,  and  sometimes  can  be  drawn  up  and  concealed, 
partly  or  wholly,  within  the  cavity  of  the  mouth. 

The  young  insects,  hatched  from  the  eggs  of  gnats  and  of  flies, 
are  fleshy  larvae,  usually  of  a whitish  color,  and  without  legs.  They 
are  commonly  called  maggots,  and  sometimes  are  mistaken  for 
worms.  They  vary  a good  deal  in  their  forms,  structure,  habits, 
and  transformations,  so  that  it  is  somewhat  difficult  to  give  any 
general  description  of  them.  Most  insects  are  hatched  from  eggs 


INSECTS. 


131 


which  are  laid  by  the  mother  on  the  substances  that  are  to  serve 
for  the  food  of  her  young. 

The  far-famed  Hessian  fly  and  the  wheat-fly  of  Europe,  and  of 
this  country,  are  small  gnats  or  midges,  and  belong  to  the  family 
called  Cecidomyiad^e,  or  gall-gnats.  The  insects  of  this  family  are 
very  numerous,  and  most  of  them,  in  the  maggot  state,  live  in  galls 
or  unnatural  enlargements  of  the  stems,  leaves,  and  buds  of  plants, 
caused  by  the  punctures  of  the  winged  insects  in  laying  their  eggs. 
The  Hessian  fly,  wheat-fly,  and  some  others  differ  from  the  ma- 
jority in  not  producing  such  alterations  in  plants.  The  proboscis  of 
these  insects  is  very  short,  and  does  not  contain  the  piercing  bris- 
tles found  in  the  long  proboscis  of  the  biting  gnats  and  musquitos. 
Their  antennae  are  long,  composed  of  many  little,  bead-like  joints, 
which  are  larger  in  the  males  than  in  the  other  sex ; and  each  joint 
is  surrounded  with  short  hairs.  Their  eyes  are  kidney-shaped. 
Their  legs  are  rather  long  and  very  slender.  Their  wings  have 
only  two,  three,  or  four  veins  in  them,  and  are  fringed  with  little 
hairs  around  the  edges  ; when  not  in  use,  they  are  generally  carried 
flat  on  the  back.  The  hind-body  of  the  females  often  ends  with  a 
retractile,  conical  tube,  wherewith  they  deposit  their  eggs.  Their 
young  are  little,  footless  maggots,  tapering  at  each  end,  and  gene- 
rally of  a deep  yellow  or  orange  color.  They  live  on  the  juices  of 
plants,  and  undergo  their  transformations  either  in  these  plants,  or 
in  the  ground. 

The  Hessian  fly  was  scientifically  described  by  Mr.  Say,  in  181V, 
under  the  name  of  Cecidomyia  destructor.  It  obtained  its  common 
name  from  a supposition  that  it  was  brought  to  this  country,  in 
some  straw,  by  the  Hessian  troops  under  the  command  of  Sir  Wil- 
liam Howe  in  the  war  of  the  Revolution. 

The  head  and  thorax  of  this  fly  are  black.  The  hind-body  is 
tawny,  and  covered  with  fine  grayish  hairs.  The  wings  are  black- 
ish, but  are  more  or  less  tinged  with  yellow  at  the  base,  where  also 
they  are  very  narrow ; they  are  fringed  with  short  hairs,  and  are 
rounded  at  the  end.  The  body  measures  about  one  tenth  of  an 
inch  in  length,  and  the  wings  expand  one  quarter  of  an  inch,  or 
more.  It  is  a true  Cecidomyia , differing  from  Lasioptera  in  the 
shortness  of  the  first  joint  of  its  feet,  and  in  the  greater  length  of 
its  antennae,  the  bead-like  swellings  whereof  are  also  most  distant 
from  each  other.  Two  broods  or  generations  are  brought  to  ma- 
turity in  the  course  of  a year,  and  the  flies  appear  in  the  spring  and 
autumn,  but  rather  earlier  in  the  Southern  and  Middle  States  than 


162 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


in  New  El  gland.  The  transformations  of  some  in  each  brood  ap- 
pear to  be  retarded  beyond  the  usual  time,  as  is  found  to  be  the 
case  with  many  other  insects  ; so  that  the  life  of  these  individuals, 
from  the  egg  to  the  winged  state,  extends  to  a year  or  more  in 
length,  whereby  the  continuation  of  the  species  in  after  years  is 
made  more  sure.  It  has  frequently  been  asserted  that  the  flies  lay 
their  eggs  on  the  grain  in.  the  ear ; but  whether  this  be  true  or  not, 
it  is  certain  that  they  do  lay  their  eggs  on  the  young  plants,  and 
long  before  the  grain  is  ripe ; for  many  persons  have  witnessed  and 
testified  to  this  fact.  In  the  New  England  States  and  New  York, 
winter  wheat  is  usually  sown  about  the  first  of  September.  To- 
wards the  end  of  this  month,  and  in  October,  when  the  grain  has 
sprouted,  and  begins  to  show  a leaf  or  two,  the  flies  appear  in  the 
fields,  and,  having  paired,  begin  to  lay  their  eggs,  in  which  business 
they  are  occupied  for  several  weeks.  The  Hessian  fly  lays  her  eggs 
in  the  small  creases  of  the  young  leaves  of  the  wheat.  If  the 
weather  be  warm,  the  eggs  commonly  hatch  in  four  days  after  they 
are  laid.  The  maggots,  when  they  first  come  out  of  the  shells,  are 
of  a pale  red  color.  Forthwith  they  crawl  down  the  leaf,  and  work 
their  way  between  it  and  the  main  stalk,  passing  downwards  till 
they  come  to  a joint,  just  above  which  they  remain,  a little  below 
the  surface  of  the  ground,  with  the  head  towards  the  root  of  the 
plant.  Having  thus  fixed  themselves  upon  the  stalk,  they  become 
stationary,  and  never  move  from  the  place  till  their  transformations 
are  completed.  They  do  not  eat  the  stalk,  neither  do  they  pene- 
trate within  it,  as  some  persons  have  supposed,  but  they  lie  length- 
wise upon  its  surface,  covered  by  the  lower  part  of  the  leaves,  and 
are  nourished  wholly  by  the  sap,  which  they  appear  to  take  by  suc- 
tion. They  soon  lose  their  reddish  color,  turn  pale,  and  will  be 
found  to  be  clouded  with  whitish  spots  ; and  through  their  trans- 
parent skins  a greenish  stripe  may  be  seen  in  the  middle  of  their 
bodies.  As  they  increase  in  size,  and  grow  plump  and  firm,  they 
become  imbedded  in  the  side  of  the  stem,  by  the  pressure  of  their 
bodies  upon  the  growing  plant.  One  maggot  thus  placed  seldom 
destroys  the  plant ; but,  when  two  or  three  are  fixed  in  this  man- 
ner around  the  stem,  they  weaken  and  impoverish  the  plant,  and 
cause  it  to  fall  down,  or  to  wither  and  die.  They  usually  come  to 
their  full  size  in  five  or  six  weeks,  and  then  measure  about  three 
twentieths  of  an  inch  in  length.  Their  skin  now  gradually  hardens, 
becomes  brownish,  and  soon  changes  to  a bright  chestnut  color. 
This  change  usually  happens  about  the  first  of  December,  when  the 


INSECTS. 


133 


insect  may  be  said  to  enter  on  the  pupa  state,  for  after  this  time  it 
takes  no  more  nourishment.  The  brown  and  leathery  skin,  within 
which  the  maggot  has  changed  to  a pupa  or  chrysalis,  is  long  egg- 
shaped,  smooth,  and  marked  with  eleven  transverse  lines,  and  mea- 
sures one  eighth  of  an  inch  in  length.  In  this  form  it  has  been 
commonly  likened  to  a flax-seed.  The  maggots  of  the  Hessian  fly 
do  not  cast  off  their  skins  in  order  to  become  pupae,  wherein  they 
differ  from  the  larvae  of  most  other  gnats,  and  agree  with  those  of 
common  flies  ; neither  do  they  spin  cocoons,  as  some  of  the  Ceci- 
domyians  are  supposed  to  do.  The  pupa  gradually  cleaves  from 
the  dried  skin  of  the  larva,  and,  in  the  course  of  two  or  three  weeks, 
is  wholly  detached  from  it.  Still  inclosed  within  this  skin,  which 
thus  becomes  a kind  of  cocoon  or  shell  for  the  pupa,  it  remains 
throughout  the  winter,  safely  lodged  in  its  bed  on  the  side  of  the 
stem,  near  the  root  of  the  plant,  and  protected  from  the  cold  by 
the  dead  leaves.  Towards  the  end  of  April  and  in  the  forepart  of 
May,  or  as  soon  as  the  weather  becomes  warm  enough  in  the  spring, 
the  insects  are  transformed  to  flies.  They  make  their  escape  from 
their  winter  quarters  by  breaking  through  one  end  of  their  shells 
and  the  remains  of  the  leaves  around  them.  Very  soon  after  the 
flies  come  forth  in  the  spring,  they  are  prepared  to  lay  their  eggs 
on  the  leaves  of  the  wheat  sown  in  the  autumn  before,  and  also  on 
the  spring-sown  wheat,  that  begins,  at  this  time,  to  appear  above 
the  surface  of  the  ground.  They  continue  to  come  forth  and  lay 
their  eggs  for  the  space  of  three  weeks,  after  which  they  entirely 
disappear  from  the  fields.  The  maggots  hatched  from  these  eggs, 
pass  along  the  stems  of  the  wheat,  nearly  to  the  roots,  become  sta- 
tionary, and  turn  to  pupae  in  June  and  July.  In  this  state  they 
are  found  at  the  time  of  harvest,  and,  when  the  grain  is  gathered, 
they  remain  in  the  stubble  in  the  fields.  To  this,  however,  as  Mr. 
Havens  remarks,  there  are  some  exceptions  ; for  a few  of  the  in- 
sects do  not  pass  so  far  down  the  side  of  the  stems  as  to  be  out  of 
the  way  of  the  sickle  when  the  grain  is  reaped,  and  consequently 
will  be  gathered  and  carried  away  with  the  straw.  Most  of  them 
are  transformed  to  flies  in  the  autumn,  but  others  remain  unchanged 
in  the  stubble  or  straw  till  the  next  spring.  In  the  winged  state, 
these  flies,  or  more  properly  gnats,  are  very  active,  and,  though 
evry  small  and  seemingly  feeble,  are  able  to  fly  to  a considerable 
distance  in  search  of  fields  of  young  grain.  Their  principal  mi- 
grations take  place  in  August  and  September  in  the  Middle  States, 
where  they  undergo  thair  final  transformations  earlier  than  in  New 


134 


THE  PESTS  OF  THE  FARM. 


England.  There,  too,  they  sometimes  take  wing  in  immense  s warms, 
and,  being  probably  aided  by  the  wind,  are  not  stopped  in  their 
course  either  by  mountains  or  rivers.  On  their  first  appearance  in 
Pennsylvania  they  were  seen  to  pass  the  Delaware  like  a cloud. 
Being  attracted  by  light,  they  have  been  known,  during  the  wheat 
harvest,  to  enter  houses  in  the  evening  in  such  numbers  as  seriously 
to  annoy  the  inhabitants. 

The  old  discussion,  concerning  the  place  where  the  Hessian  fly 
lays  her  eggs,  has  lately  been  revived  by  Miss  Margaretta  H.  Morris, 
of  Germantown,  Pennsylvania.  Miss  Morris  believes  she  has  es- 
tablished that  the  ovum  (egg)  of  this  destructive  insect  is  deposited 
in  the  seed  of  the  wheat,  and.  not  in  the  stalk  or  culm.  She  has 
watched  the  progress  of  the  animal  since  June,  1836,  and  has  sat- 
isfied herself  that  she  has  frequently  seen  the  larva  within  the  seed. 
She  has  also  detected  the  larva,  at  various  stages  of  its  progress, 
from  the  seed  to  between  the  body  of  the  stalk  and  the  sheath  of 
the  leaves.  According  to  her  observations,  the  recently  hatched 
larva  penetrates  to  the  centre  of  the  straw,  where  it  may  be  found 
of  a pale  greenish  white  semitransparent  appearance,  in  form  some- 
what resembling  a silk  worm.  From  one  to  six  of  these  have  been 
found  at  various  heights  from  the  seed  to  the  third  joint.  From 
the  foregoing,  we  are  led  to  infer,  that  the  egg,  being  sowed  with 
the  grain,  is  hatched  in  the  ground,  and  that  the  maggot  afterwards 
mounts  from  the  seed  through  the  middle  of  the  stem,  and,  having 
reached  a proper  height,  escapes  from  the  hollow  of  the  straw  to 
the  outside,  where  it  takes  the  pupa  or  flax  seed  state.  The  fact 
that  the  Hessian  fly  does  ordinarily  lay  her  eggs  on  the  young 
leaves  of  wheat,  barley,  and  rye,  both  in  the  spring  and  in  the  au- 
tumn, is  too  well  authenticated  to  admit  of  any  doubt.  If,  there- 
fore, the  observations  of  Miss  Morris  are  found  to  be  equally  cor- 
rect, they  will  serve  to  show,  still  more  than  the  foregoing  history, 
how  variable  and  extraordinary  is  the  economy  of  this  insect,  and 
how  great  are  the  resources  wherewith  it  is  provided  for  the  con- 
tinuation of  its  kind. 

Various  means  have  been  recommended  for  preventing  or  less- 
ening the  ravages  of  the  Hessian  fly ; but  they  have  hitherto  failed, 
either  because  they  have  not  been  adapted  to  the  end  in  view,  or 
because  they  have  not  been  universally  adopted  ; and  it  appears 
doubtful  whether  any  of  them  will  ever  entirely  exterminate  the 
insect.  Miss  Morris  advises  obtaining  “ fresh  seed  from  localities  in 
which  the  fly  has  not  made  its  appearance,”  and  that  “ by  this 


# 


INSECTS. 


135 


means  the  crop  of  the  following  year  will  be  uninjured  ; but  in  order 
to  avoid  the  introduction  of  straggling  insects  of  the  kind  from  ad- 
jacent fields,  it  is  requisite  that  a whole  neighborhood  should  per- 
severe in  this  precaution  for  two  or  more  years  in  succession.”  The 
stouter  varieties  of  wheat  ought  always  to  be  chosen,  and  the  land 
should  be  kept  in  good  condition.  If  fall  wheat  is  sown  late,  some 
of  the  eggs  will  be  avoided,  but  risk  of  winter-killing  the  plants 
will  be  incurred.  If  cattle  are  permitted  to  graze  the  wheat  fields 
during  the  fall,  they  will  devour  many  of  the  eggs.  A large  num- 
ber of  the  pupse  may  be  destroyed  by  burning  the  wheat-stubble 
immediately  after  harvest,  and  then  plowing  and  harrowing  the 
land.  This  method  will  undoubtedly  do  much  good.  As  the  Hes- 
sian fly  also  lays  its  eggs,  to  some  extent,  on  rye  and  barley,  these 
crops  should  be  treated  in  a similar  manner.  It  is  found  that  lux- 
uriant crops  more  often  escape  injury  than  those  that  are  thin  and 
light.  Steeping  the  grain  and  rolling  it  in  plaster  or  lime  tends  to 
promote  a rapid  and  vigorous  growth,  and  will  therefore  prove 
beneficial.  Sowdng  the  fields  wTith  wood  ashes,  in  the  proportion 
of  two  bushels  to  an  acre,  in  the  autumn,  and  again  in  the  first  and 
last  weeks  in  April,  and  as  late  in  the  month  of  May  as  the  sower 
can  pass  over  the  wheat  without  injury  to  it,  has  been  found  use- 
ful. Favorable  reports  have  been  made  upon  the  practice  of  allow- 
ing sheep  to  feed  off  the  crop  late  in  the  autumn,  and  it  has  also 
been  recommended  to  turn  them  into  the  fields  again  in  the  spring, 
in  order  to  retard  the  growth  of  the  plant  till  after  the  fly  has  dis- 
appeared. Too  much  cannot  be  said  in  favor  of  a judicious  man- 
agement of  the  soil,  feeding  off  the  crop  by  cattle  in  the  autumn, 
and  burning  the  stubble  after  harvest ; a proper  and  general  atten- 
tion to  which  will  materially  lessen  the  evils  arising  from  the  dep- 
redations of  this  noxious  insect 


' 


. ' 

- 


DOMESTIC  FOWL 


AND 


ORNAMENTAL  POULTRY 

THEIR 


NATURAL  HISTORY,  ORIGIN,  AND  TREATMENT  JN  HEALTH  AND 
DISEASE. 


BY 

H.  D.  RICHARDSON, 

Author  ol  "The  Horse,”  “The  Pests  of  the  Farm,”  “The  Hog,’* 
"The  Hive  and  the  Honey-Bee,”  etc.,  etc. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  ON  WOOD. 


NEW  YORK: 

C.  M.  SAXTON  AND  COMPANY, 
AGRICULTURAL  BOOK  PUBLISHERS, 

No.  140  Fitlton  Street. 

1856. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1852,  by 
C.  M.  SAXTON, 

in  the  Clerk’s  Office  >f  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


PUBLISHER’S  ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  Publisher,  having  found  the  want  of  small,  cheap  Books,  of 
acknowledged  merit,  on  the  great  topics  of  farming  economy,  and 
meeting  for  those  of  such  a class  a constant  demand,  offers,  in  this 
one,  a work  calculated  to  fill  the  void. 

The  works  of  Richardson  on  the  Hog,  the  Horse,  the  Bee,  the 
Domestic  Fowl,  and  the  Pests  of  the  Farm,  are  popular  in  England 
and  in  America,  and,  in  evidence  of  their  worth,  meet  with  continued 
sale  both  there  and  here.  Hitherto  they  have  not  been  offered  to  the 
American  public  in  an  American  dress ; and  the  Publisher  presents 
in  this  Reprint,  one  of  the  series,  adapted  to  American  wants,  and 
trusts  that  a discerning  Public  will  both  buy  and  read  these  little 
Treatises,  so  admirably  adapted  to  all  classes,  and  fitted  by  their 
size  for  the  pocket,  and  thus  readable  at  the  fireside,  on  the  road, 
and  in  short  everywhere. 


C.  M.  SAXTON, 

Agricultural  Book  Publisher. 


INDEX 


Accidents  to  fowl,  how  treated,  87 

Age,  great,  of  geese,  82. 

Animal  food,  requisite  in  feeding  poultry, 
19  ; proper  kinds,  best  mode  of  giving, 

18,  19,  20. 

Apoplexy,  91. 

Ashes  and  Litter,  in  a poultry-house,  14. 

Asthma,  90. 

Aylesbury  Duck,  86. 

Bankiva  Fowl,  described,  26  ; originate 
the  Bantam  and  Turkish  fowl. 

Bantam,  the  origin  and  varieties  of,  25  ; 
description  of,  51. 

Barbary  Fowl,  45. 

Barndoor  Fowl,  55. 

Bolton  Greys,  45. 

Breeding  Poultry,  advantages  attending, 
7 ; profits  accruing  from,  8. 

Buckwheat  promotes  fecundity  in  noultry, 

19. 

Cabin,  Cottier’s,  advantage  of  poultry 
roosting  there  in  winter,  16. 

Call  Duck,  87. 

Canada  Goose,  75. 

Capons,  fattening  of,  96. 

Caponising,  92  ; objects  proposed  in,  ib.; 
process,  ib.;  treatment,  ib.;  performed 
on  hens,  94  ; on  pullets,  ib.;  precautions, 
ib.;  sometimes  performed  on  turkeys, 
geese,  and  ducks,  96. 

Chick,  formation  of  the  embryo,  33. 

Chickens,  when  hatched,  how  to  tend  be- 
fore they  leave  the  egg,  32  ; how  they 
manage  to  break  the  shell,  34  ; when 
they  are  to  be  assisted  in  liberating 
themselves,  35  ; nature  of  their  first 
feeding,  35  ; of  their  housing,  35,  36. 

Chinese  Goose,  77. 

Chittagong,  the,  37. 

Christmas,  goose  a favorite  dish  at,  74. 

Cochin-China  Fowl,  the,  38. 

Cock,  Domestic,  separate  feeding  requisite 
for,  17  ; partialities  for  particular  hens, 
ib.;  dislikes  of  and  their  causes,  18  ; 
common,  description  of,  21  ; his  history, 
22  ; a sacred  bird  with  the  ancients,  ib  ; 


importance  attached  to  among  ourselves 
from  earliest  times,  ib.;  original  country 
of  untraceable,  23  ; various  opinions  of 
the  original  country  of,  ib.;  reasons  for 
deducing  his  pedigree  from  the  Jago, 
Sumatra,  and  Java  fowl,  25  ; selection 
of  a good,  28  ; pugnacity  of,  how  re- 
pressed, 29  ; apparent  feelings  of  in 
crowing,  ib.;  his  fondness  of  a clean 
and  trim  plumage,  ib.;  gigantic,  or  St 
Jago  fowl,  described,  26;  the  gold- 
spangled  Polish,  42 ; silver-spangled 
Polish,  ib.;  white-crested  black  Polish, 
43  ; Dutch  everyday  layer,  44  ; Dorking, 
45  ; the  Malay,  37  ; the  Cochin-China, 
38 ; the  Spanish,  40 ; cock-fighting 
among  the  ancient  Greeks  and  Romans, 
22  ; its  introduction  into  Britain.  22. 

Columbian  Fowl,  42. 

Consumption,  91. 

Corns,  92. 

Costiveness,  92. 

Cramming  of  fowl,  practised  by  the  an- 
cient Romans,  22  ; cruel  and  unwhole- 
some practice  with  geese,  113. 

Diarrhoea,  91. 

Dietary,  varied  required  for  fowl,  20. 

Diseases  of  fowl,  87. 

Dorking  Fowl,  46. 

Dorking  Hens  good  sitters,  87. 

Duck,  the  species  admit  of  a natural 
threefold  division,  83 ; power  to  find 
their  food,  84  ; value  of  domesticated, 
ib.;  habits  of  the  whole  race,  ib.;  the 
domestic,  ib.;  feeding  and  fattening, 
85  ; hatching,  ib. 

Dunghill  Fowl,  the,  55. 

Dutch  Everyday  Layers,  44 

Dutch  Fowl,  the,  55. 

East  Indian  Black  Duck,  87. 

Egg,  shape  of,  indicates  the  gender  of  the 
future  chick,  32. 

Eggs,  for  hatching,  how  to  preserve,  31  ; 
Tor  hatching,  how  to  select,  32  ; during 
the  process  of  hatching,  broken  to 


INDEX. 


V 


show  the  mode  of  furnishing  the  nutri- 
ment, 33. 

F.very-day  layers,  44. 

Fattening  of  chickens,  21  ; of  geese,  80  ; 
of  ducks,  84  ; of  turkeys,  66. 

Feeding,  separate,  advisable  for  poultry- 
in  certain  cases,  17  ; precarious  in  the 
farm-yard  not  to  be  depended  on,  18 ; 
substances  that  may  be  used  in,  ib.; 
necessity  of  animal  food  in,  19  ; mode 
of  giving  it,  ib.;  peculiar,  calculated  to 
promote  fecundity,  how  given,  ib.; 
varied,  necessary,  20 ; stimulating,  a 
favorite  with  fowl,  ib.;  fattening,  21. 

Fever,  91. 

Fowl,  Domestic,  housing  for,  9 ; methods 
of  feeding,  17 ; the  origin  of,  21  ; selec- 
tion of  stock  of,  27  ; hatching  of,  32  ; 
management  of  the  young  brood  of,  35  ; 
varieties  cf,  36. 

Frizzled  Fowl,  the,  54. 

Game  Fowl,  48  ; management  of  breeding, 
29,  49  ; varieties  of,  50. 

Goose,  the,  73  ; common  wild  or  gray-lag, 
74  ; fattening  of,  82  ; the  white-fronted, 
74;  the  Canada,  75;  the  domestic,  ib.; 
the  Toulouse,  ib.;  the  Chinese,  77  ; va- 
rieties of  the  domestic,  78  ; breeding 
the,  81  ; food  of  the  young,  80  ; keeping, 
ib.;  fattening,  81  ; French  process  of 
fattening,  82  ; Polish  process,  ib.;  pluck- 
ing alive  for  the  feathers,  83. 

Gout,  92. 

Grass-plot,  requisite  in  poultry-house,  14. 

Grey-lag  Goose,  74. 

Guinea  Hen,  the,  68 ; its  origin,  ib.;  its 
characteristics,  69. 

Hamburgh  Fowl,  44. 

Hatching,  best  situation  for,  10  ; the  nest 
for  must  be  clean,  11  ; how  conducted 
where  there  is  more  than  one  breed  of 
fowl,  ib.;  choice  of  a good  domestic 
hen  for,  30  ; marks  of  a hen’s  anxiety 
for,  ib.;  how  to  induce  the  desire  for, 
ib.;  inconstancy  of  a hen  in,  how  reme- 
died, ib.;  over-constancy,  how  treated, 
31  ; breaking  the  eggs  in,  how  reme 
died,  ib. 

Hemp-seed  recommended  for  increasing 
fecundity  in  poultry,  19. 

Hen,  Domestic,  described,  21  ; the  number 
of  hens  to  be  allotted  to  one  cock,  27  ; 
selection  of  a good  cock,  28  ; choice  of 
a good  one  for  incubation,  30  ; the  Ma- 
lay, a valuable  cross-breed,  37  ; the 
Cochin-China,  38  ; the  Spanish,  41  ; the 
gold-spangled  Polish,  42  ; white-crested 
black  Polish,  43 ; Dutch  every--day 
layer,  44  ; Dorking,  47. 

Hen-coop,  description  of  a,  16,  17. 

Incubation,  peri®  1 of,  in  the  various  do- 
mestic fowl,  38 


Indigestion,  91. 

Inflammation,  89;  of  the  lungs,  90;  ol 
the  heart,  ib. 

Java  Fowl,  37. 

Jumper,  the,  53. 

Jungle  Fowl,  description  of,  23. 

Litter,  how  pleasing  to  poultry,  14. 

Malay  Fowl,  37 ; a cross  from  them  do* 
serving  the  breeder’s  attention,  38. 

Moulting,  87. 

Muscovy  Duck,  86. 

Negro  Fowl,  55. 

Nests  for  poultry,  how  made  and  disposed, 
10  ; those  that  are  most  easily  cleaned, 
15. 

Parasites  in  fowls,  91. 

Peacock,  the,  60. 

Pepper,  a favorite  relish  with  domestio 
fowl,  20. 

Perch  for  poultry,  the  best,  9. 

Pheasant  Fowl,  51. 

Pheasant,  Malay,  ib. 

Pintado,  the,  68. 

Pip,  88. 

Polish  Fowl,  42  ; the  spangled,  43  ; the 
white-crested  black,  ib.;  the  white,  44 

Pouch,  abdominal,  of  the  Toulouse 
goose,  76. 

Poultry,  separate  feeding  of,  in  certain 
cases,  17  ; their  dispositions  to  be  ob- 
served. 29. 

Poultry  houses,  9 ; how  to  be  well  kept, 
10  ; howto  be  warmed,  ib.;  cleanliness 
and  space  for  exercise  essential  to,  12  ; 
separate  cribs  for  the  diseased  requisite 
in,  ib.;  separate  pens  requisite  in,  13; 
ground-plan  for,  ib.;  the  house  itsell 
described,  12 ; various  requisites  for, 
14,  15. 

Prices  of  superior  poultry,  8. 

Profit,  of  rearing  turkeys,  65. 

Pugnacity  in  the  cock,  how  repressed,  29. 

Pulse,  sorts  unwholesome  to  turkeys,  67. 

Rouen  Duck,  86. 

Rumpkin,  the,  53. 

Russian  Fowl,  54. 

Sand,  for  a poultry  house,  14,  20. 

Shakebag,  the,  38  ; his  origin,  ib. 

Siberian  Fowl,  the,  54. 

Silky  Fowl,  the.  53. 

Sir  John  Sebright’s  Fowl,  52. 

Sitting,  inconstancy  in,  how  remedied,  30  ; 
overconstancy  in,  how  treated  in  a hen, 
31  ; how  to  preserve  eggs  for,  ib.;  to 
select  eggs  for,  32  ; management  of  the 
eggs  during  the,  ib.;  when  and  how-  to 
aid,  34  ; table  giving  time  of  sitting  and 
the  number  of  eggs  hatchable  by  the 
various  domestic  fowl,  36. 


VI 


INDEX. 


Spangled  Fowl,  their  varieties,  44  ; con- 
fusion in  distinguishing  them,  ib. 

Spanish  Fowl,  41. 

Sussex  Fow  l,  47. 

Swan,  the,  70:  the  mute,  71  ; the  domes- 
tic, ib.;  the  black,  73. 

Toulouse  Goose,  76. 

Turkey,  the,  6G  ; mistake  of  Linnaeus  in 
his  name  for,  ib.;  original  country  of, 
ib.;  his  introduction  into  England,  57  ; 
origin  of  his  English  name,  ib.;  the 
wild,  58;  his  movements,  59;  experi- 
ments in  crossing  with  the  domestic,  60  ; 


the  domestic,  61 ; varieties  of,  62  • best 
I mode  of  keeping,  ib.;  treatment  of  th« 
I chickens,  64 ; feeding,  ib.;  fattening, 
! 66  ; the  weight  of,  67. 

, Turkish  Fowl,  the,  63. 

Vermin,  approved  method  of  ridding 
| poultry  of,  14. 

j Web-footed  Fowl,  70. 

Yard,  an  outer  and  inner,  to  be  atta  *hed 
to  a poultry -house,  18. 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


“ How  grateful  ’tis  to  wake 
While  raves  the  midnight  storm,  and  hear  the  sound 
Of  busy  grinders  at  the  well-filled  rack  ; 

Or  flapping  wing  or  crow  of  chanticleer, 

Long  ere  the  lingering  morn  ; or  bouncing  flails 
That  tell  the  dawn  is  near  ! Pleasant  the  path 
By  sunny  garden  wall,  when  all  the  fields 
Are  chill  and  comfortless  ; or  barn-yard  snug, 

Where  flocking  birds,  of  various  plume  and  chirp 

Discordant,  cluster  on  the  leaning  stack 

Krom  whence  the  thresher  draws  the  rustling  sheaves 


CHAPTER  I. 

VIEW  OF  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  SUBJECT. 

Poultry  keeping  is  an  amusement  in  which  every  body  may  indulge. 
The  space  needed  is  not  great,  the  cost  of  food  for  a few  head,  insignificant, 
and  the  luxury  of  fresh  eggs  or  home-fatted  chickens  and  ducks  not  to  he 
despised.  In  a large  collection  of  poultry  may  be  read  the  geography  and 
progress  of  the  commerce  of  the  world.  The  Peacock  represents  India ; the 
Golden  Pheasant  and  a tribe  of  Ducks,  China ; the  Turkey,  pride  of  the 
yard  and  the  table,  America ; the  Black  Swan,  rival  of  the  snowy  monarch 
of  the  lakes,  reminds  us  of  Australian  discoveries ; while  Canada  and 
Egypt  have  each  their  Goose.  The  large  fat  white  Ducks — models  of  what 
a duck  should  be — are  English,  while  the  shining  green  black  ones  come 
from  Buenos  Ayres.  And  when  we  turn  to  the  fowl  varieties,  Spain  and 
Hamburgh,  Poland  and  Cochin  China,  Friesland  and  Bantam,  Java  and  Ne- 
groland,  beside  Surrey,  Sussex,  Kent,  Suffolk,  and  Lancashire,  have  each  a 
cock  to  crow  for  them. 

But  we  may  derive  other  useful  lessons  besides  those  of  geography  and 
commerce  from  the  poultry  yard.  The  same  principles,  the  same  close  at- 
tention to  food,  warmth,  and  symmetry  of  form,  which  have  produced  per- 
fection in  short-horned  cattle,  Leicester  sheep,  and  tl.o rough-bred  horses. 


8 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


have,  in  a minor  degree,  afforded  us  Bantams,  “ true  to  a feather,”  as  we . 
as  size  and  beauty  in  Spanish,  Dorking,  and  Poland  Fowl. 

Whether  poultry  keeping  can  be  rendered  profitable,  is  a question  which 
depends  on  a variety  of  circumstances,  which  cannot  be  alike  in  two  locali- 
ties ; because  they  depend  on  the  cost  of  food,  and  the  nett  price  which  can 
be  obtained  for  the  produce  in  eggs  or  birds ; thus,  one  person  with  the  free 
run  of  a fine  dry  upland  warm  common,  with  a ready  market  near,  may 
make  an  excellent  profit ; while  another,  bestowing  equal  care,  but  confined 
to  a small  field  of  cold  soil,  may  lose  nine  out  of  ten  of  the  most  valuable 
young  poultry. 

Poultry  may  be  converted  into  money  either  w’hile  living  or  when  dead  ; 
or  they  may  be  bred,  partly  for  the  market,  and  partly  with  a view’  to  the 
disposal  of  their  eggs. 

First,  as  to  the  profit  arising  from  the  disposal  of  superfluous  stock.  This 
depends,  of  course,  in  a great  measure,  upon  the  quality  and  character  of  the 
birds  kept,  and  hence  the  breeder  should  confine  his  fancy  to  the  more  valu- 
able varieties.  The  expense  of  feeding  and  rearing  a valuable  fowl  will 
not  be  found  to  exceed  that  required  for  a comparatively  worthless  one  ; at 
least,  if  at  all,  only  as  regards  comfort  and  warmth,  which,  if  properly  pro- 
cured, are  not  very  costly.  Poultry  of  very  superior  quality  and  fashionable 
varieties,  especially  such  as  have  obtained  prizes  at  any  of  the  first-rate 
agricultural  exhibitions,  will  fetch  a high  price.  Prize  fowl,  of  extraordi- 
nary excellence,  bring  double  price  frequently ; but  of  course  this  is  a price 
given  for  the  breed , and  not  for  killing.  In  all  these  cases  the  producer 
must,  of  course,  allow  a fair  profit  to  the  dealer ; he  cannot,  therefore, 
reckon  on  more  than  two-thirds  of  the  price,  yet  this  will  amply  remune- 
rate him. 

But  although  there  may  be  doubts  about  the  profits,  there  can  be  none 
about  the  amusement  to  be  derived  from  a w7ell  chosen  collection  of  domes- 
tic birds,  and,  whether  for  profit  or  amusement,  the  rules  to  insure  success 
are  the  same.  It  will  be  my  endeavor  to  lay  these  down  as  plainly  as  pos- 
sible. 

Certainly  the  present,  if  any,  is  the  time  for  making  a profit  by  poultry . 
since  all  the  inferior  kinds  of  grain  are  cheap  and  likely  to  be  cheaper.  The 
demand  for  poultry  increases  rather  than  diminishes,  and  railroads  have 
opened  up  cheap  conveyances  to  market.  The  fact  is  that  the  great  draw- 
back on  poultry  rearing  arises  from  loss  by  disease  ; while  the  greatest  pro- 
fits are  derived  from  successfully  rearing  the  birds  which  are  most  subject 
to  disease  at  inclement  periods  of  the  year. 

Ducks  and  geese  are  more  easily  raised  than  fowl,  turkeys,  or  guinea- 
fowl,  if  there  be  conveniences  of  grass  and  water ; but  then  fine  turkeys  and 
fat  young  guinea-fowl  in  due  season  are  sure  of  a sale  at  a good  price.  With 
respect  to  the  poultry  of  farm  houses,  which  are  fed  on  what  would  other* 


POULTRY  HOUSES. 


9 


wise  be  wasted  or  what  is  collected  by  the  industry  of  children  ; — warmly 
housed,  they  often  thrive  better  and  prove  more  proiiric  than  the  expei  - 
sively  tended  inmates  of  ornamental  poultry  houses. 

In  the  following  pages  the  most  esteemed  varieties  of  poultry  and  water- 
fowl  will  be  described.  The  poultry  keeper  will  find  it  to  his  advantage  to 
keep  a good  breed  in  preference  to  a bad  one.  Some  of  the  more  beautiful 
or  valuable  kinds  of  poultry  are  too  delicate  to  prove  profitable  ; but  size, 
early  maturity,  and  prolific  hens,  will,  under  the  most  unfavorable  circum- 
stances, be  of  more  advantage  than  small,  ugly,  rarely-laying  birds. 


CHAPTER  II. 

POULTRY  HOUSES. 

Before  purchasing  your  poultry  have  your  house  all  ready  to  receive 
them,  or  you  may  do  your  stock  more  harm  in  a few  days,  by  close  cooping 
or  cold  roosting  them,  than  you  can  repair  in  a year.  I design  showing 
here  how  very  readily,  and  at  how  small  a cost,  a sufficiently  good,  and  in 
every  respect  suitable  poultry-house  may  be  erected.  I cannot,  of  course, 
desire  to  recommend  any  restrictions  to  those  whom  Providence  has  favored 
with  wrealth.  There  exists  no  reasonable  objection  to  such  as  can  afford  it 
gratifying  their  taste,  either  as  to  extent  of  accommodation  or  elegance  of 
structure.  The  poor  man,  on  the  other  hand,  need  not  lay  out  one  penny, 
and  still  may  be  as  successful  in  his  operations  as  his  more  wealthy  neigh- 
bor. It  is  my  object  to  write  for  all  classes.  I shall,  accordingly,  describe 
several  sorts  of  poultry-houses,  from  that  on  the  most  perfect  and  extended 
scale,  to  that  which  can  only  boast  of  barely  answering  the  purposes  for 
which  it  is  designed. 

In  nine  cases  out  of  ten  some  outhouse  is  appropriated  to  the  purpose, 
without  preparation  or  alteration.  But,  if  consistent  with  your  means,  by 
all  means  build  a proper  house.  Choose  a piece  of  gravelly  soil  well  drain- 
ed on  a slight  declivity,  near  trees  which  will  afford  shade  and  shelter  from 
winds.  The  building  should  be  lofty  enough  to  admit  the  poultry  keeper 
without  stooping,  because,  if  it  be  inconvenient  to  enter,  the  chances  are 
that  regular  cleaning  will  be  neglected.  Let  tl  e roof  be  kept  weather 
tight.  If  slates  or  tiles  are  employed,  the  house  should  be  ceiled  in  order 
to  protect  the  fowls  from  draughts  and  rapid  variations  of  temperature  ; in 
default  of  lath  and  plaster  a piece  of  asphelted  felt  closely  nailed  makes  a 
cheap  and  efficient  ceiling. 

The  best  perch  is  made  in  the  shape  of  a bioad  double  ladder,  stretched 
out  so  as  to  form  a wide  angle  ; the  bars  being  placed  so  far  apart  that  on« 


10 


DOMESTIC  FOWE. 


fowl  shall  not  overhang  another.  If  roosting  bars  be  used  across  the  fowl- 
house,  care  should  be  taken  that  a convenient  hen-ladder  is  always  attached 
to  them,  and  that  they  are  not  placed  too  high.  Heavy  fowl  are  apt  to  break 
their  breast  bones  in  trying  to  fly  down  from  high  perches. 

The  careful  poultry  keeper  should  take  a view  of  the  fowl  at  night  after 
they  have  gone  to  roost,  and  see  that  they  are  all  comfortable,  not  too  crowd- 
ed, with  room  enough  for  the  weak  ones  to  gel  away  from  the  strong,  who 
are  apt  to  tyrannize.  The  floor  must  be  dry,  and  covered  with  fine  gravel 
or  sand,  and  it  should  be  swept  ;lean  every  day.  Nothing  injures  the  health 
of  fowl  more  than  bad  smells.  To  obviate  this  always  keep  a basket  of 
slacked  lime  or  old  mortar  in  a corner  with  a shovel,  so  that  you  may  shake 
some  over  any  dirt.  The  sweepings,  if  kept  quite  dry,  form  most  valuable 
manure.  For  the  same  reason  have  the  interior  walls  frequently  white- 
washed, and  the  window  open  in  fine  weather.  If  the  window  can  be  fill- 
ed with  a Venetian  blind  so  much  the  better.  The  door  should  have  a hole 
at  the  bottom  with  a sliding  panel  to  admit  the  poultry  during  the  day — by 
keeping  t locked  you  have  a better  chance  of  gathering  plenty  of  eggs.  If 
you  have  no  windows,  movable  loose  boards  fitted  to  the  door  may  be  use- 
ful to  admit  air. 

As  warmth  is  so  requisite  to  poultry,  it  will  be  an  advantage  if  one  side 
of  the  poultry  house  be  against  the  outside  wall  of  a kitchen  or  boiler-house, 
or  a hot  water  pipe  running  through  it  from  the  hot-house  will  well  repay 
the  outlay.  With  a sweet  clean  warm  poultry  house  you  will  have  plenty 
of  eggs  long  before  more  careless  neighbors. 

As  to  the  nests,  the  great  point  is  that  they  should  be  near  to  the  ground, 
easily  cleaned,  and  not  too  large.  If  they  are  too  large  two  fowls  will  of- 
ten try  to  sit  in  the  same  r°°t  at  the  same  time.  If  there  is  any  difficulty 
in  getting  into  them,  hens  are  apt  to  drop  their  eggs  on  the  ground.  Nests 
may  be  made  of  wood,  or  basket-work ; there  should  be  a small  ledge  to 
prevent  the  eggs  from  rolling  out.  A little  old  mortar  or  wood  ashes  laid 
at  the  bottom  will  tend  to  keep  the  nests  clean.  Straw  and  hay  both  make 
good  lining  for  nests. 

If  the  nests  are  arranged  in  two  stories  there  should  be  a broad  ledge  wide 
enough  for  a hen  to  walk  on  in  front  of  the  top  row,  like  the  platform  of  a 
drawing-room  verandah,  and  a hen-ladder  should  be  placed  at  each  end,  but 
nests  are  better  on  the  ground. 

It  is  very  advantageous  to  place  fowl  which  are  sitting  in  a retired  situ- 
ation where  they  will  not  be  annoyed  by  other  fowl,  and  where,  when  the 
hatching  takes  place,  they  can  be  cooped  with  their  young  out  of  danger, 
with  a dry  yard  or  close  cropped  lawn  in  front  to  run  on.  Many  hens,  as 
well  as  peafowl  and  turkeys,  are  vicious,  and  will  try  to  destroy  a rival 
brood. 

A small  box,  about  a yard  square,  with  a hard  dry  floor,  and  a movable 


POULT  H Y HOUSES. 


11 


wooden  top,  is  excellent  as  a sitting-room  for  hens.  I have  seen  an  old  cu- 
cumber frame  covered  with  wooden  slabs  successfully  arranged  for  bringing 
up  early  broods. 

Be  sure  before  you  put  a fowl  to  set  that  the  nest  is  perfectly  clean ; if 
the  hen  becomes  infested  with  vermin  she  pines  and  cannot  set  close. 

It  will  often  be  found  cheaper  to  make  a good  fowl-house  at  first,  than  to 
be  continually  adding  and  patching. 

Of  course  if  you  have  more  than  one  breed  of  fowl,  they  must  be  kept 
separate,  if  you  intend  to  keep  the  race  pure.  Where  this  is  attempted,  an 
enclosure  adjoining  the  poultry-house,  with  three  divisions  of  iron  wire,  will 
be  found  useful,  if  the  space  and  cost  can  be  spared.  In  these  enclosures  in 
wet  cold  weather,  the  poultry  can  be  confined,  with  room  to  scratch  and 
feed.  The  largest  division  will  be  for  your  laying  hens  and  turkeys,  and 
miscellaneous  stock.  In  this  space  you  can  muster  them,  accustom  them  to 
be  fed,  and  see  that  all  are  in  health,  and  make  the  close  observations  which 
are  needful  for  success.  In  the  second  you  can  place  hens  with  young  broods 
before  they  are  strong  enough  to  mix  with  the  other  fowl.  In  the  third,  and 
smallest,  poultry  for  fatting.  If  just  large  enough  for  them  to  enjoy  the  air 


POULTRY  HOUSE. 


12 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


TRANSVERSE  SECTION. 

L,  the  laying  apartment ; H , hatching-room 
n,  nest  boxes  ; b,  b,  boxes  and  troughs  for  watei 
feed,  sand,  &c.;  d,  an  opening,  or  door,  for  en- 
trance and  going  out ; a,  latticed  window,  for 
ventilation  ; R,  roosting-place,  separated  from 
apartments  below  by  the  ceilings  c,  c ; h,  ven. 
tilating  hole  ; v,  ventilator  on  roof ; p,  roosting 
pole  ; t,  trough  for  dung. 


without  being  able  to  run  about  much,  with  shade,  sun,  plenty  of  clean  water, 
and  food,  they  wTill  generally  thrive  better  than  when  cooped.  A few  good 
coops,  either  of  wood  and  wire,  or  wicker,  with  the  top  thatched,  should  always 
be  at  hand.  These  should  be  made  so  as  to  shut  up  the  chickens  if  necessary, 
as  well  as  the  hens.  If  the  fowl-house  is  large  enough  have  a small  sink  in  one 
corner  where  it  is  light,  and  if  it  is  not  large  enough,  put  in  the  yard,  under 
shade,  a large  glazed  earthenware  pan,  and  fill  it  with  fine  sand,  or  ashes,  or 
slacked  lime,  or  burned  oyster  shells,  as  a dust  bath  for  the  fowl.  By  placing 
the  stuff  in  a pan  it  is  easily  changed  from  time  to  time. 

If  you  are  obliged  to  put  up  with  a small  lean-to  or  other  confined  place,  for 
your  fowl-house,  at  any  rate  take  care  to  keep  it  clean,  for  warmth,  cleanli- 
ness, and  judicious  feeding  are  the  cardinal  maxims  for  poultry  management. 

Nothing  more  is  necessary  for  the  keeping  poultry  with  profit  and  advan- 
tage, beyond  having  a small  shed  or  light  building,  formed  in  some  warm, 
sunny,  and  at  the  same  time,  sheltered  situation,  fitted  up  with  proper  di- 
visions. boxes,  lockers,  or  other  contrivances  for  the  dwelling  of  the  different 
sorts  of  birds,  and  places  for  their  laying  in.  This  and  cleanliness  suffice. 

“ Cleanliness,”  says  Mr.  Beatson,  u with  as  free  a circulation  as  possible, 
and  a proper  space  for  the  poultry  to  run  in,  is  essential  to  the  rearing  of  this 
sort  of  stock  with  the  greatest  advantage  and  success,  as  in  narrow  and  con- 
fined situations  they  are  never  found  to  answer  well.” 

In  every  establishment  for  poultry  rearing  there  ought  to  be  so.  ne  separate 
crib  or  cribs,  into  which  to  remove  fowl  when  laboring  under  disease  ; for 
not  only  are  many  of  the  diseases  to  which  poultry  are  liable  highly  conta- 
gious, but  the  sick  birds  are  also  regarded  wfth  dislike  by  such  as  are  in 


POULTRY  HOUSES. 


13 


health  ; and  the  latter  will  generally  attack  and  maltreat  them,  thus  at  the 
very  least  aggravating  the  sufferings  of  the  afflicted  fowl,  even  if  they  do 
not  actually  deprive  them  of  life.  The  moment,  therefore,  that  a bird  is 
perceived  to  droop  or  appear  to  be  pining,  it  should  be  removed  to  one  of 
these  infirmaries. 

Separate  pens  are  also  necessary  to  avoid  quarreling  among  some  of  the 
highly-blooded  breeds,  more  particularly  the  game  fowl.  They  are  also 
necessary  when  different  varieties  are  kept,  *in  order  to  avoid  improper  or 
undesired  commixture  from  accidental  crossing.  These  lodgings  may  be 
most  readily  constructed  in  rows,  parallel  to  each  other;  the  partitions  may 
be  formed  of  lattice  work — they  will  be  rather  ornamental  than  otherwise, 
and  th4  cost  of  their  erection  will  be  but  trifling.  Each  of  these  lodgings 
should  be  divided  into  two  compartments,  one  somewhat  larger  than  the 
,other.  One  compartment  is  to  be  close  and  warm  for  the  sleeping-rooin  ; 
the  other,  and  the  larger  one,  should  be  airy  and  open,  that  the  birds  may 
enjoy  themselves  in  the  day-time  ; both  should  be  kept  particularly  dry  and 
clean,  and  be  well  protected  from  the  weather. 


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GROUND  TLAN. 

L,  laying-room  ; II,  hatching-room  ; n,  n,  nests  for  laying  ; o,  o,  nests  for  hatching  ; 
.ladder;  s,  stove. 

Attached  to  the  house  should  be  a well-drained  yard,  with  a division  of 
wire  or  trellis  work  for  every  ward,  with  water  in  each;  and  it  will  be  ad- 
vantageous to  have  outside  of  this  yard  a wider  range  of  turf  and  gravel, 
where  the  fowl  can  be  more  at  large.  When  different  broods  are  kept,  and 
it  is  desired  to  keep  them  apart,  the  larger  yard  must  be  shared  in  turn  by 
the  inhabitants  of  the  different  wards.  The  hatching- ward  and  the  feeding- 
Ward  should  be  kept  separate.  A roosting  and  hatching- ward  for  ducks  and 


14 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


geese,  with  a small  pond,  accessible  to  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  poultrv 
yard,  should  be  added. 


WATER  DISH  AND  TANK. 


Every  poultry-house  should  be  provided  with  a sufficient  quantity  of 
small  sand  ; or,  if  such  cannot  be  procured,  clean  ashes  are  a good  substitute  ; 
pieces  of  chalk  are  also  a useful,  nay,  necessary  adjunct ; crude  lime  acts, 
however,  as  a poison.  Some  horse-dung  or  chaff,  with  a little  corn  through 
it,  is  also  a source  of  much  amusement  to  the  birds  ; and  it  should  be  borne 
in  mind  that  amusement , even  in  the  poultry-yard,  is  materially  conducive  to 
health.  The  ashes  and  litter  should  be  frequently  changed,  and  had  better 
also  be  kept  in  little  trenches , in  order  that  they  may  not  be  scattered  about, 
giving  a dirty  or  untidy  appearance  to  the  yard.  When,  however,  your 
fowl  have  a run  in  a garden  or  field,  of  average  extent,  this  artificial  care 
will  be  replaced  by  nature. 

If  the  court  be  not  supplied  with  a little  grass-plot,  a few  squares  of  fresh 
grass  sods  should  be  placed  in  it,  and  changed  every  three  or  four  days.  If 
the  court  be  too  open,  some  bushes  or  shrubs  will  be  found  useful  in  afford- 
ing shelter  from  the  too  perpendicular  beams  of  the  noon-day  sun,  and 
probably  in  occasionally  screening  the  chicken  from  the  rapacious  glance  of 
the  kite  or  raven.  If  access  to  the  sleeping-room  be,  as  it  ought,  denied 
during  the  day.  the  fowl  should  have  some  shed  or  other  covering,  beneath 
which  they  can  run  in  case  of  rain  : this  is  what  is  termed  “ o storm  house 
and,  lastly,  there  should  be  a constant  supply  of  pure , freshwater. 

Fowl  frequently  suffer  much  annoyance  from  the  presence  of  vermin,  and 
a hen  will  often  quit  her  nest,  when  sitting,  in  order  to  get  rid  of  them. 
This  is  one  of  the  uses  of  the  sand  or  dust  bath ; but  a better  remedy,  and 


TOULTRY  HOU8ES. 


15 


RUSTIC  POULTRY-HOUSE. 


one  A tar  speedier  and  more  certain  efficacy,  is  to  have  the  laying  nests 
composed  of  dry  heather  and  small  branches  of  hawthorn,  covered  over 
with  white  lichen.  These  materials,  rubbed  together  by  the  pressure  and 
motion  of  the  hen,  emit  a large  powder,  which,  making  its  way  between 
the  feathers  to  the  skin,  is  found  to  have  the  effect  of  dislodging  every  sort 
of  troublesome  parasite. 

The  fowl-house  should  also  be  frequently  and  thoroughly  cleaned  ~ut,  and 
it  is  better  that  the  nests  be  not  fixtures,  but  formed  in  little  flat  wicker 
baskets,  nte  sieves,  which  can  be  frequently  taken  down,  the  soi*»-<  straw 


FEEDING-BOX. 


16 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


thrown  out,  and  themselves  thoroughly  washed:  or  formed  of  wooden 
boxes,  with  a sliding  bottom.  In  either  case,  hay  is  objectionable,  as 
tending  to  the  production  of  these  vermin.  Fumigation,  at  no  very  remote 
intervals,  is  also  highly  to  be  commended.  Nothing  is  of  more  importance 
to  the  well-being  of  your  poultry  than  a good,  airy  walk.  These  maxims 
cannot  be  too  often  impressed  on  the  poultry  keeper. 

A COTTAGE  POULTRY-HOUSE. 

As  good  a mode  of  rearing  fowl  as  can  be  adopted  is  the  old  cusiom  of 
suffering  them  to  roost  on  the  rafters  of  the  room  in  which  the  cottier  keeps 
his  fire  ; and  it  is,  per.iaps,  owing  to  the  warmth  thus  afforded  to  the  birds, 
that,  during  winter,  when  eggs  are  scarce,  and  consequently  at  a high  price, 
they  will  be  procurable  from  the  humble  cabin,  when  they  have  long 
vanished  from  the  elaborately  constructed,  but  less  warm  poultry-house  of 
the  more  affluent  fancier. 

Should  circumstances,  however,  render  the  keeping  poultry  in  the  cabin 
objectionable  or  unadvisable,  a very  sufficient  place  may  be  erected  for  them 
against  the  outside  of  the  cabin  wall ; and,  if  possible,  the  part  of  the  wal 
against  which  the  little  hut  is  erected  should  be  that  opposite  to  the  fire- 
place within — thus  securing  the  necessary  warmth.  If  shelter  be  required, 
it  can  be  obtained  by  means  of  a few  bushes,  or  a wall  of  sods ; the  neigh- 
boring roads  will  serve  as  an  ample  walk ; the  nearest  stream  will  slake 
their  thirst.  A few  laying-nests  may  be  placed  in  a warm  corner  of  the 
cabin,  and  the  poultry  of  the  poor  cottier  will  thrive  as  well,  and  yield 
great  a profit,  as  those  kept  in  the  best  appointed  establishments. 


By  confining  a hen  some  hours  in  the  day  to  the  coop,  she  is  prevented 
from  rambling  into  danger,  and  yet  has  the  liberty  of  enjoying  fresh  air, 


HOW  TO  FEED  FOULTRY. 


17 


anil  the  pleasure  of  seeing  her  chicks  run  in  and  out  through  the  bars,  re- 
turning to  her  when  her  voice  warns  them  to  seek  shelter  with  her  in  the 
friendly  coop,  on  the  approach  of  a shower  or  of  any  other  danger.  The 
instincts  of  the  young  birds  will  generally  lead  them  to  obey  her  voice, 
even  though  it  be  that  of  a step-mother. 


TENT-SHAPED  COOPS. 


CHAPTER  III. 

HOW  TO  FEED  POULTRY. 

Do  not  feed  your  hens  too  highly  before  they  begin  to  lay,  or  while  lay- 
ing, or  immediately  after  ceasing  to  lay,  unless  you  wish  to  fatten  them  foi 
table  use ; for  as  soon  as  a fowl  begins  to  fatten  she  stops  laying.  You  must, 
therefore,  separate  the  two  classes  of  fowl,  layers  and  fatteners,  at  all  events 
at  feeding  time.  Make  some  separate  provision  for  your  cocks  ; if  they  are 
only  fed  in  company  with  the  hens,  they  are  apt  to  think  too  much  of  their 
mistresses  and  to  neglect  their  own  appetites ; and  recollect  that  to  have 
strong  chickens,  you  must  have  strong  cocks,  which  an  ill-fed  bird  cannot  be 
expected  to  prove. 

Y ou  should  also  make  separate  provision  for  such  fowl  as  are  bullied  or 
oppressed  by  the  rest.  Fowl  are  much  given  to  jealousy ; the  cock’s  favor  is 
sometimes  the  cause  of  this,  but  by  no  means  invariably  so,  and,  indeed,  the 
cause  is  not  at  all  times  to  be  ascertained  ; however  obscure  the  cause , it  is 
incumbent  on  the  poultry  fancier  to  prevent  the  effect , by  adopting  the  separa- 
tive system  at  the  times  I have  indicated.  I myself  have  met  with  instan- 
ces of  a cock  forming  a partiality  for  a particular  hen.  In  such  an  occur- 
rence, which  is  easily  recognizable  by  the  cock’s  continually  running  at  that 
particular  bird,  to  the  neglect,  or  comparative  neglect  of  the  others,  it  is 
better  to  remove  the  favorite  at  once ; if  you  do  not  do  so,  quarrels  will  ensue ; 
this  hen  will  nearly  always  be  made  a victim,  and  in  many  cases  the  quar- 
rels on  her  account  will  give  rise  to  other  and  more  general  affrays.  On 
such  occasions  the  cock  usually  interferes  and  endeavors  to  establish  peace ; 
he  almost  invariably  does  so  when  the  contest  is  carried  on  per  duello 


18 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


when,  however,  a number  of  his  mistresses  fall  upon  one,  his  inteifeience  is 
of  little  avail ; and,  as  if  he  were  conscious  of  this,  in  such  cases  he  usually 
leaves  the  poor  favorite  to  her  fatp.  I have  also  known  a cock  to  take  a 
dislike  to  a particular  hen.  This  is  a much  more  rare  case  than  the  preced- 
ing, and  I have  no  doubt  of  its  cause  : it  is  this  : when  a vigorous,  healthy 
cock  is  mated  with  very  few  hens,  he  is  very  persevering  in  his  attentions  to 
them  : when  hens  are  in  moult  they  will  not  accept  of  any  such  attentions. 
In  most  instances  of  this  kind  that  have  fallen  under  my  own  observation, 
I have  found  the  hen  thus  victimized  by  her  lord  to  have  been  moulting,  and 
to  have  incurred  his  hatred  by  a refusal  of  conjugal  rights.  The  cock  will 
sometimes  fall  upon  a hen  newly  introduced  into  your  yard,  especially  if  of 
a different  color  from  his  other  mates. 

Fowl  about  a farm-yard  can  usually  pick  up  a portion  of  their  subsistence, 
and  that  probably  the  largest  portion,  and,  of  course,  in  such  situations 
poultry-keeping  decidedly  pays  best . I must,  however,  particularly  caution 
my  readers  against  depending  for  the  support,  even  of  their  non-fattening 
poultry,  wholly  upon  such  precarious  resources,  and  I shall,  accordingly,  pro- 
ceed in  my  advice  as  if  no  such  resources  existed. 

The  substances  that  may  be  used  in  poultry  feeding  are  very  numerous 
and  various — cabbage,  turnips,  carrots,  parsnips,  mangelwurzel,  oats,  wheat, 
barley,  rye,  Indian  corn,  and  other  grains,  substances  too  well  known  to  re- 
quire, and  too  numerous  to  be  worth  the  trouble  of  enumerating.  It  will 
not  answer  to  feed  fowl  wholly  upon  any  one  variety  of  food ; neither  will  it 
be  found  advisable  to  feed  wholly  upon  any  one  class  of  food.  I must  speak 
of  the  latter  point  first.  Fowl  require  a mixture  of  green  food  with  hard 
food,  fully  as  much  as  horses  or  cattle  do.  When  the  birds  have  the  advan- 
tage of  an  extensive  walk,  they  will  find  this  for  themselves ; when  they 
do  not  possess  such  an  advantage,  you  must  provide  green  food  for  thein. 
Some  do  so  by  providing  the  birds  with  cabbages  or  other  greens  chopped  small. 
My  plan  is  to  fasten  heads  of  cabbages,  lettuce,  rape,  or  other  green  herbs,  to 
some  fixture,  by  means  of  their  roots,  and  to  let  the  fowl  peck  for  them- 
selves. This  practice  not  merely  prevents  waste,  but  is,  in  consequence  of 
the  amusement  it  affords,  decidedly  conducive  to  health.  When  you  find  it 
difficult  to  obtain  green  food,  you  will  find  that  turnips  will  answer  equally 
well.  To  prepare  these  they  should  be  sliced  one  wray,  and  then  sliced 
across,  so  as  to  be  cut  into  small  dice.  This  is  troublesome — granted  ; but  no 
man  deserves  to  have  a good-  stock  of  poultry,  or  anything  else,  if  he  de 
dines  taking  trouble.  If  it  be  necessary  to  employ  hired  labor  for  the  pur 
pose,  the  stock  must  be  very  large,  and  will  unquestionably  pay.  The  same 
yellow  turnips,  boiled  soft,  and  mixed  with  bran  or  pollard,  or  given  by 
themselves,  are  also  capital  feeding,  especially  for  a change.  Carrots  and 
parsnips  may  be  used  for  this  purpose,  prepa~'>J.  in  either  of  the  modes  re- 
commended for  yellow  turnips.  Of  mangel , as  food  for  poultry,  I cannot 


HOW  TO  FEED  POULTRY. 


19 


■ay  much,  valuable  though  it  decidedly  is  for  othir  purposes;  the  birds  do 
not  generally  like  it,  and  I have  found  that,  even  where  they  do  eat  it,  it 
does  anything  but  promote  their  laying ; oats  are  useful  as  forming  a portion 
of  fowl's  feeding;  but  it  will  not  answer  for  keeping  them  upon  altogether ; 
the  hulls  are  very  indigestible,  and  this  food  is,  besides,  of  too  stimulating  a 
nature ; yet  a few  handsful  are  wrell  spent  on  your  fowl.  When  damaged 
wheat  can  be  bought  at  a low  price,  it  may  be  used  for  the  feeding  of  poul- 
try with  much  profit  and  advantage ; when  no  such  thing  can  be  procured, 
however,  and  when  it  is  proposed  to  feed  them  upon  the  sound,  marketable 
article,  it  will  not  pay.  The  same  may  be  said  of  barley , which  is  also  ob 
jectionable  as  acting  in  a purgative  manner — it  is  useful  as  an  occasional  feed, 
when  fowl  are  over  fed.  Rye  is  usually  a cheaper  description  of  grain  than 
any  other,  and  damaged  rye  may  be  used,  to  a limited  extent,  -with  impunity, 
even  when  affected  with  the  ergot  which  exercises  so  powerful  an  influence 
upon  the  systems  of  all  female  animals  possessing  a uterus.  As  this  same 
ergot , however,  is  frequently  the  cause  of  severe  illness  when  human  beings 
happen  to  eat  bread  made  of  rye  tainted  with  it,  poultry  should  not  be  suf- 
fered to  eat  too  freely  of  it.  Indian  corn  is  a most  capital  food  both  for  store 
and  fattening  fowl,  and  may  be  used  in  larger  quantities  than  any  other. 

The  sweepings  of  grain  warehouses,  consisting  of  all  kinds  of  grain,  may 
freeqnently  be  purchased  on  cheap  terms,  and  are  well  suited  for  poultry, 
but,  if  given  to  fowl,  the  peas  and  beans  must  be  sifted  out. 

One  circumstance  connected  with  the  feeding  of  poultry,  and  that  a tnost 
important  one,  is  not  sufficiently  well  known — I allude  to  the  necessity  they 
are  under  of  obtaining  animal  food.  Of  course,  when  the  birds  possess  the 
advantage  of  an  extensive  run,  they  can  themselves  peck  up  insects,  w’orms, 
snails,  or  slugs ; and  as  in  the  case  of  ducks,  &c.,  frogs  and  other  small  rep- 
tiles ; but  in  cases  where  they  do  not  possess  this  advantage,  it  is  necessary 
that  you  cater  for  them.  I have  always  experienced  the  best  effects,  espe- 
cially as  manifested  in  greatly  increased  laying , of  giving  scraps  of  animal 
food  about  twice  or  thrice  a-week  to  the  fowl ; the  best  mode  is  throw- 
ing down  a bullock’s  liver,  leaving  it  with  them  and  permitting  them  to 
peck  at  it  ad  libitum.  This  is  better  in  a raw  than  in  a cooked  state. 

In  winter,  in  order  to  supply  the  place  of  the  insects  and  other  animal 
food  they  can  pick  up  in  summer,  I give  them  once  a week  fat  meat,  to- 
gether with  any  meat  bones  to  peck,  and  also  barley  made  hot  in  a saucepan 
without  water  and  given  warm.  Hot  potatoes  are  always  good  food,  small 
potatoes  may  be  picked  out,  and  steamed  for  the  purpose,  if  you  keep  a gar- 
den. But  meat  is  indispensable,  if  you  wish  to  have  eggs  in  winter. 

Several  substances  have  been  at  different  times  recommended  as  calcula- 
ted to  increase  the  fecundity  of  the  various  classes  of  the  feathered  inhabi- 
tants of  the  farm  yard,  amongst  these,  perhaps,  hempseed  and  buckwheat 
are  pre-eminent.  There  can  exist  no  doubt  of  the  peculiar  efficacy  of  these 


20 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


seeds  in  this  respect  when  properly  used , but  neither  can  it  be  denied  that  in 
some  cases  this  objeetionablencss  is  undoubted. 

When  a hen  pines,  or  seems  disposed  to  be  thin , you  need  not  hesitate  in 
giving  buckwheat  with  even  a liberal  hand ; but  you  must  so  manage  as 
not  to  permit  such  hens  as  are  disposed  to  become  too  fat  to  share  in  this 
department  of  your  bounty.  According  as  hens  take  on  fat  they  usually  fall 
off*  in  laying,  and  this  should  be  particularly  kept  in  mind  in  feeding. 
When  hens  are  disposed  to  flesh,  you  will  find  hempseed  the  best  promoter 
of  laying;  at  the  same  time  it  will  be  necessary  that  you  restrict . them  as 
respects  other  descriptions  of  food,  fattening  and  laying  being  nearly  always 
incompatible  with  each  other. 

Fowl  of  all  kinds  require  sand , gravel , as  an  aid  to  digestion,  being,  in  fact, 
necessary  to  promote  trituration  in  the  gizzard,  as  well  as  to  supply  calcare- 
ous matter  for  their  egg-shells.  You  should,  therefore,  always  have  a sup- 
ply placed  within  their  reach.  This,  I must  admit,  applies  more  immedi- 
ately to  such  fowl  as  are  kept  in  a confined  yard ; when  the  walk  is  at  all 
extensive,  the  birds  can  usually  peck  up  enough  for  themselves.  Fresh- 
water gravel  is  the  best : and  if  you  live  near  the  sea,  and  wish  to  use  sand 
so  easily  obtainable  from  the  beach,  you  should  first  wash  it  in  two  or  three 
waters.  Where  no  sand  of  any  kind  can  be  obtained,  as  in  towns,  you  can 
use  chalk,  bruised  oyster  shells,  or  freestone  ; if  the  latter,  you  had  better 
wash  it  well  first : you  will,  of  course,  pound  before  placing  it  in  the  yard. 

I have  observed  that  fowl  require  a varied  dietary. 

In  the  morning,  about  seven  o’clock,  in  spring  and  autumn,  but  at  six  in 
summer,  let  the  fowl  out,  and  permit  them  to  roam  about  till  nine,  when 
give  grain,  to  the  amount  of  about  a handful  to  every  three  birds ; they  will 
then  amuse  themselves  about  the  place,  during  which  time  they  will  peck 
up  a good  deal ; about  three  o’clock  feed  them  again  on  grain  to  about  the 
same  amount,  besides  which  give  whatever  potato,  turnip,  or  other  refuse  is 
going.  The  liver  should  lie  in  the  yard,  and  they  can  get  green  feed  for 
themselves.  In  winter  the  affair  assumes  another  aspect ; all  feeding,  but 
more  particularly  the  grain,  must  be  greatly  increased  in  quantity.  As  you 
now  cannot  procure  green  food,  or  at  least  can  only  do  so  with  difficulty, 
and  at  an  expense  that  will  seldom  pay,  you  should  resort  to  the  chopped 
turnips. 

Cayenne  pepper,  indeed,  all  descriptions  of  pepper,  especially  the  cayenne 
in  pods,  will  be  found  a favorite  with  fowl,  and  will  be  greedily  devoured  by 
them  ; it  acts  as  a powerful  stimulant  and  remarkably  promotes  laying,  and, 
when  mixed  in  a ground  state,  with  boiled  meal,  will  be  found  productive 
of  the  best  effects.  In  this,  however,  as  in  every  thing  else,  let  moderation 
be  your  ruling  principle. 

A different  system  should  be  adopted  in  treating  poultry  for  the  table,  and 
for  the  laying  and  breeding  department.  The  great  secret  of  having  fat 


I 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  OUR  DOMESTIC  FOWL.  21 

chickens,  is  never  to  let  them  be  thin.  But,  to  fatten,  you  may  either  en- 
close them  in  a small  space,  or  absolutely  coop  them  up.  Coops  should  be 
placed  in  a warm — rather  dark  place ; be  high  and  large  enough  for  each 
fowl  to  be  comfortable  without  moving  about,  not  more  than  three  fowl  in 
each  division,  so  that  they  can  see  without  touching  each  other ; the  back 
part  of  the  floor  should  be  grated  to  allow  the  dung  to  fall  through,  and  this 
must  be  removed  ever)  morning.  The  troughs  are  generally  made  too  low ; 
they  would  be  better,  raised  an  inch ; and,  instead  of  wood,  should  be  of  coarse 
pottery  or  glass,  both  of  which  are  very  cheap,  and  can  be  easily  kept  clean. 
Starve  the  fowl  for  a few  hours  after  cooping,  and  then  supply  them  fre- 
quently, and  at  regular  intervals,  with  as  much  food  as  they  will  eat,  and  no 
more,  clearing  the  trough  each  time  after  they  have  fed.  Rice  boiled  will 
be  found  very  fattening;  and  by  a constant  variety  of  food,  the  fowl  will  be 
induced  to  eat,  and  ought  to  be  quite  fat  in  a fortnight. 

But  above  all,  it  must  be  remembered,  that  to  do  any  good,  chickens  put 
up  for  fattening,  require  regular  attention,  and  at  stated  hours. 


CHAPTER  IY. 

THE  ORIGIN  OF  OUR  DOMESTIC  FOWL. 

The  Domestic  Fowl,  styled  by  zoologists  Gallince , from  the  Latin  word 
gallus , a cock — is  distinguished  by  having  the  crown  of  the  head  usually 
naked  and  the  skin  raised  in  a fleshy  protuberance,  called  a comb — a protu- 
berance varying  in  size  und  form  in  different  varieties.  The  base  of  the 
lower  mandible  (beak)  1.  likewise  furnished  with  fleshy,  lobular  appenda- 
ges, called  wattles ; the  tail  is  carried  erect,  and  is  composed  of  two  planes 
folded  together  at  acute  angles.  In  the  male,  the  central  feathers  of  the  tail 
are  elongated,  and  fall  gracefully  over  the  others  The  feathers  of  the  neck 
are  ample  in  quantity,  are  either  long  and  hackled  or  short  and  truncated. 
The  plumage  of  the  male  bird  is  characterized  by  considerable  brilliancy 
and  beauty;  that  of  the  female  is  unobtrusive,  matronly,  and  comparatively 
dull.  The  cock  tribe  is  extremely  hardy,  and  endures  all  changes  of  tem- 
perature and  climate  with  impunity,  as  is  proved  by  these  birds  being  found 
to  exist  in  nearly  every  country  of  the  world,  from  the  warmest  to  the 
coldest  zone. 

The  domestic  cock  appears  to  have  been  known  to  man  from  the  very 
earliest  period.  Of  his  real  origin  little  appears  to  be  known,  and  the  period 
or  manner  of  his  first  introduction  into  Greece,  or  southern  Europe,  is  in- 
volved in  the  greatest  obscurity.  The  cockdias  certainly  ever  held  a promi- 
nent position  among  birds;  he  occupied  a conspicuous  place  at  the  shows 


12 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


of  the  Greeks  and  Romans  in  the  days  of  old;  his  effigy  was  engraved,  and 
is  still  to  be  seen  upon  many  of  the  medals  and  coins ; and  he  has  been 
expressly  dedicated  to  several  of  their  favorite  deities — as  Apollo,  Mercury, 
Mars,  and  iEsculapius. 

At  a Roman  banquet  this  bird  formed  a principal  dish,  and  poultry  were 
even  then  carefully  reared  and  fattened,  as  well  as  crammed.  Nor  was  the 
pugnacious  disposition  of  the  cock  even  then  unknown,  or  lost  sight  of,  as  a 
means  of  amusing  man ; for  cock-fighting  was  seriously  entertained  and 
encouraged  as  at  once  a religious  and  a political  ceremony.  The  islands  of 
Rhodes  and  Delos  are  said  to  have  furnished  the  fattest  birds  for  the  table, 
as  well  as  the  most  enduring  and  unflinching  champions  of  the  ancient  cock- 
pit. 

It  is  strange  that  a practice  so  barbarous  as  that  of  cock-fighting  should 
owe  its  origin  to  classic  times,  and  to  one  of  the  most  learned  and  enlightened 
nations  of  antiquity — the  Greeks.  It  was  introduced  into  these  islands  by 
the  Romans,  and  it  was,  perhaps,  the  occasion  of  making  us  acquainted  with 
the  domestic  fowl.  For  a long  period  cock-fighting  was  practiced  in  En- 
gland as  a royal  pastime,  and  exhibited  as  such  before  public  assemblies 
with  pomp  and  show,  and  it  continued  to  be  sanctioned,  both  by  law  and 
custom,  until  about  1730.  Up  to  this  time  it  was — I suppose  in -allusion  to 
the  wrell-known  connection  this  bird  had  with  St.  Peters  denial  of  our 
Savior — a favorite  amusement  at  or  about  Shrovetide,  and  was  even  in 
vdgue  at  public  schools,  with  the  express  sanction  of  the  schoolmaster,  who 
furnished  the  boys  with  cocks  for  the  purpose. 

However  much  the  cock  has  occasionally  suffered,  he  has,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  boast  of  having  ever  been  regarded  as  a bird  of  the  very  highest 
consequence  and  respectability.  From  time  immemorial  his  “ shrill  clarion” 
has  “ ushered  in  the  morn  and  he  has  likewise  had  consigned  to  him  the 
important  power  of  dismissing  ghostly  visitants  to  their  more  appropriate 
dwelling  in  the  tomb.  The  ghost  of  Hamlet’s  father,  about  to  make  a most 
important  disclosure  to  his  loving  son,  suddenly  hears  the  crowing  of  the  cock , 
on  which  he  announces  no  less  abruptly  that  he  “snuffs  the  morning  air,” 
and  leaving  half  his  say  unsaid,  returns  incontinent  to  all  the  gloomy  and 
unrevealed  horrors  of  his  mysterious  prison-house.  As  Shakspeare  so 
beautifully  writes,  too,  the  office  of  cock-crowing  is  likewise,  at  a certain 
season,  rendered  still  more  important — 

“ Some  say  that  ever  against  that  season  comes, 

Wherein  our  Savior’s  birth  is  celebrated, 

The  bird  of  dawning  singeth  all  night  long  ; 

And  then,  they  say,  no  spirit  walks  abroad. 

The  nights  are  wholesome — then  no  planets  strike, 

No  fairy  takes,  nor  witch  has  power  to  harm  ; 

So  hallowed,  and  so  gracious  is  the  time.” 

As  I have  already  observed,  to  pronounce  with  any  degree  of  certainty 


THE  ORIGIN'  OF  OUR  DOMES'!  1C  FOWL. 


23 


is  to  toe  original  country  of  the  domestic. cock,  or  to  refer  positively  to  what 
known  wild  species  we  are  to  look  for  his  primitive  type,  would  prove  a 
labor  equally  difficult  and  presumptuous,  the  date  of  his  original  domestica- 
tion belonging  to  so  remote  a period  as  to  be  now  wholly  lost;  but  never- 
theless, there  are  races  of  poultry  that,  still  possessing  a wild  and  apparently 
truly  feral  type,  would  seem  to  afford  the  strongest  evidence  of  originality 


sonnerat’s  jungle  fowl. 


Several  authors  of  the  highest  respectability  and  most  unquestionable 
erudition — among  whom  Buffon  and  Sonnerat — have  endeavored  to  show 
that  all  the  varieties  of  domestic  fowl  with  which  we  are  now  acquainted 
sprang  originally  from  one  primitive  stock.  This  opinion  has  obtained 
many  advocates.  Zoologists  are,  in  general,  apparently  possessed  with  an 
anxious  desire  to  curtail,  as  much  as  possible,  the  number  of  primitive  types 
whence  the  several  races  of  animals  have  sprung ; with  poultry,  however, 
this  desire  must  be  frustrated.  Dampier  saw  wild  hens  at  Puloncondar, 
Timor,  and  St.  Jago.  Sonnini  describes  wild  cocks  which  he  saw  in  the 
forests  of  South  America.  Temminck  procured  wild  cocks  from  Java, 
Sumatra,  and  Ceylon  ; and  all  these  birds  differed  essentially,  in  character 
and  appearance,  from  all  our  then  known  domestic  iaces — from  those  found 
by  Sonnerat  in  the  Indies— and,  finally,  from  each  other.  This  statement, 
like  many  other  novelties,  though  scouted  at  the  time  by  Sonnerat  and 
others,  wrho;  bigoted  to  their  own  pre-declared  opinion,  were,  of  course,  in- 
terested in  their  contradiction,  have  since  been  amply  and  authoritatively 
confirmed. 

I have  neither  the  wish  nor  the  intention  to  waste  my  own  time,  or  that 


24 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


of  my  readers,  by  entering  upon  the  useless,  unsatisfactory,  and  of.en  inter- 
minable paths  of  controversy. 

It  has  been  very  generally  supposed,  and  most  commonly  asserted,  that 
the  domestic  cock  owes  his  origin  to  the  Jungle  fowl  of  India.  I hold  that 
he  does  not — that  he,  in  fact,  differs  as  much  from  that  bird  as  one  fowl  can 
well  differ  from  another;  they  will  certainly  breed  together,  but  so  will  the 
hare  and  rabbit.  Read,  however,  the  following  description  of  the  Jungle 
fowl,  and,  if  you  can,  point  out  its  counterpart  among  our  domestic  stock : — 

It  is  about  one-third  less  than  our  common  dunghill  cock,  being  (the  comb 
not  included  in  the  measurement)  about  twelve  or  fourteen  inches  in  height. 
The  comb  is  indented,  and  the  wattles  certainly  bear  some  slight  resem- 
blance to  those  of  our  common  cock ; but  the  naked  parts  of  the  head  and 


JAVANESE  JUNGLE  FOWL. 


throat  are  much  more  considerable.  The  feathers  of  the  head  and  neck  are 
longest  on  the  lowest  parts,  and  differ  both  in  structure  and  aspect  from  those 
of  other  cocks,  whether  wild  or  tame.  The  Jungle  hen  is  smaller  than  the 
cock,  has  neither  comb  nor  wattles,  and  the  throat  is  entirely  covered  ivith 
feathers — a very  remarkable  distinction  from  our  domestic  hens.  The  space 
round  the  eye  is  naked,  and  of  a reddish  color ; the  under  parts  are  furnished 
with  plumage,  similar  to  that  of  the  same  parts  of  the  cock:  but,  in  addi- 
tion to  these  peculiarities,  the  Jungle  cock  possesses  still  another,  which, 
however,  the  hen  does  not  share  with  him — viz.,  the  mid-rib,  and  stem  of  a 
portion  of  the  feathers  is  considerably  expanded,  forming  a white  stripe  along 
the  whole  feather,  as  far  as  the  tip,  where  it  expands,  becomes  broader,  and 
forms  a gristly  plate  of  a rounded  form,  whitish,  thin,  and  highly  polished ; 
this  gristly  substance  is  still  more  remarkable  on  the  wing  feathers  than  on 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  OUR  DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


25 


any  other  part,  the  tip,  indeed,  of  the  wing  feathers  forming  a less  brilliant 
plate,  solid  as  horn,  and  as  firm  and  unyielding  to  the  touch.  These  plates 
are  of  a deep  red  color,  and  by  their  union,  form  a plate  of  red  maroon 
which  looks  as  if  it  were  varnished. 

There  are,  however,  two  wild-cocks  in  whi  h we  find  sufficient  points  of 
resemblance  to  our  domestic  varieties,  and  these  answer  the  purpose  of  ter- 
minating our  somewhat  unsatisfactory  search.  I allude  to  the  gigantic  bird 
or  Jago  fowl  of  Sumatra,  and  to  the  diminutive  denizen  of  the  wilds  of  Java. 
The  reasons  for  supposing  these  two  birds  to  be  the  veritable  originals  of 
our  domestic  poultry,  may  be  summed  up  briefly  thus  : — 

I.  — The  close  resemblance  subsisting  between  their  females  and  our  do- 
mestic hens. 

II.  — The  size  of  our  domestic  cock  being  intermediate  between  the  two, 
and  alternating  in  degree,  sometimes  inclining  towards  the  one,  and  some- 
times towards  the  other. 

III.  — The  nature  of  their  feathers,  and  their  general  aspect,  the  form  and 
mode  of  distribution  of  their  barbs  being  the  same  as  in  our  domestic  fowl. 

IY. — In  these  two  birds  do  we  alone  find  the  females  provided  with  a 
*rest  and  small  wattles,  characteristics  not  to  be  met  with  in  any  other 
known  wild  species.  You  will  meet  with  these  characteristics  in  the  highly 
bred  Spanish  fowl. 

Notwithstanding  these  analogies,  however,  domestication  has  so  changed 
the  form  of  the  body,  and  of  its  fleshy  appendages,  that  we  might  find  it 
rather  a difficult  task  to  refer  any  modern  individual  variety  to  its  primi- 
tive stock : we  must,  in  order  to  understand  fully  the  causes  that  pro- 
duce this  difficulty,  recollect  the  constant,  and  frequently  careless,  crossing 
one  bird  with  another,  and  the  very  frequently  promiscuous  intercourse  that 
takes  place  in  a state  of  domesticity,  taking,  likewise,  into  consideration 
changes  of  climate,  variety  of  treatment,  and  numerous  other  causes. 

We  cannot,  however,  find  any  difficulty  in  at  once  recognizing  the  large 
and  powerfully-limbed  bird  of  Sumatra  (called  also  the  Jago  fowl) , the 
appropriately  styled  “ Gigantic  Cock,”  or  Gallus  giganteus  of  zoologists,  as 
the  original  type  to  which  we  owe  the  Paduan  and  Sancevarre  varieties. 

To  the  more  diminutive  Bankiva  cock,  we  are,  on  the  other  hand,  in- 
debted for  the  smaller  varieties,  improperly  designated  Bantams,  and  the,  so- 
called,  Turkish  fowl.  By  crossing,  peculiarities  of  climate,  management, 
&c.,  have  been  produced  from  these : — 

I. — The  cock  with  small  crest  and  wattles,  furnished,  also,  with  a tuft  of 
feathers,  which  some  writers  have  supposed  to  be  produced  by  the  juices  that 
ordinarily  go  to  furnish  nourishment  for  the  comb  taking  another  form,  and 
developing  themselves  in  the  production  of  the  tuft.  These  approximate 
most  nearly  to  the  original  Sumatra  stock,  and  we  may  recognize  their  do 
mestic  representative  in  the  varieties  of  the  Polish  breed. 


20 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


II.  — The  ordinary  cock,  provided  with  comb  and  wattles,  but  no  crest  o 
tuft  of  feathers ; this  seems  the  intermediate  variety. 

III. — Diminutive  cocks,  ordinarily  known  as  Bantams,  with,  in  some 
varieties,  the  tarsi  and  toes  covered  with  feathers ; but  this  is  not  invariably 
the  case. 

I should  here  describe  the  two  races  to  which  I have  stated  it  as  my 
opinion,  that  we  are  indebted  for  our  domestic  varieties. 

The  wild  cock,  justly  termed  the  “ Gallus  giganteus,”  and  called  by 
Marsden  the  “Jago  Fowl,”  is  frequently  so  tall  as  to  be  able  to  peck 
crumbs  without  difficulty  from  an  ordinary  dinner-table.  The  weight  is 
usually  from  ten  to  thirteen  or  fourteen  pounds.  The  comb  of  both  cock 
and  hen  is  large,  crown  shaped,  often  double,  and  sometimes,  but  not  invaria- 
bly, with  a tufted  crest  of  feathers,  which  occurs  with  the  greatest  fre- 
quency, and  grows  to  the  largest  size  in  the  hen.  The  voice  is  strong  and 
very  harsh,  and  the  young  do  not  arrive  at  full  plumage  until  more  than 
half  grown. 

There  was,  some  years  ago,  in  the  Edinburgh  Museum  of  Natural  His- 
tory, a very  fine  specimen  of  the  Jago  fowl ; it  was  said  to  have  been 
brought  direct  from  Sumatra,  and,  in  most  respects,  closely  resembled  the 
common  large  varieties  of  domestic  cock.  In  this  specimen  the  comb 
extended  backwards  in  a line  with  the  eyes ; was  thick,  slightly  raised,  and 
rounded  on  the  top,  almost  as  if  it  had  been  cut ; the  throat  bare,  and  fur- 
nished with  two  small  wattles.  The  neck  and  throat  hackles  of  a golden 
reddish  color,  some  of  them  also  springing  before  the  bare  space  of  the 
throat ; the  hackles  about  the  rump,  and  base  of  the  tail,  pale  reddish  yel- 
low, long  and  pendent ; the  center  of  the  back,  and  smaller  wing  coverts,  of 
a deep  chestnut  brown,  the  feathers  having  the  webs  disunited ; the  tail  very 
full,  and  of  a glossy  green  color.  The  greater  wing  coverts  of  a glossy 
green,  with  the  secondaries  and  quills  of  a faint  golden  yellow ; under  parts 
of  a deep,  glossy,  blackish  green,  with  the  base  of  the  feathers  a deep 
chestnut  brown,  occasionally  interrupted,  so  as  to  produce  a mottled  appear- 
ance. This  bird  measured  very  nearly  thirty  inches  in  height,  comb  in- 
cluded, and  making  allowance  for  the  shrinking  of  the  skin  ; the  living  bird 
must  have  been  upwards  of  thirty-two  inches  high. 

The  Bankiva  fowl  is  a native  of  Java,  and  is  characterized  by  a red,  in- 
dented comb,  red  wattles,  and  ashy-grey  legs  and  feet.  The  comb  of  the 
cock  is  scolloped,  and  the  tail  elevated  a little  above  the  rump,  the  feathers 
being  disposed  in  the  form  of  tiles  or  slates ; the  neck  feathers  are  gold 
color,  long,  dependent,  and  rounded  at  the  tips ; the  head  and  neck  are  of  a 
fawn  color;  the  wing  coverts  a dusky  brown  am.  black  ; tail  and  belly  black. 
The  color  of  the  hen  is  a dusky  ash-grey  and  yellow ; her  comb  and  wattles 
much  smaller  than  those  of  the  cock,  and,  with  the  exception  of  the  long 
hackles,  she  has  no  feathers  on  her  neck.  These  fowl  are  exceedingly  wild. 


SELECTION'  OF  STOCK. 


27 


and  inhabit  the  skirts  of  woods,  forests,  and  other  wild  and  ij  frequented 
places.  These  Bankiva  fowl  are  very  like  our  Bantams,  and,  like  those 
pretty  little  birds,  are  also  occasionally  to  be  seen  feathered  to  t ie  feet  and 

toe*. 


CHAPTER  V. 

SELECTION  OF  STOCK,  AND  CHOICE  OF  COCK  AND  HENS  FOR  SI  TTING. 

Columella  is,  perhaps,  among  the  earliest  authorities  we  can  cite  on  the 
subject  of  the  breeding  and  management  of  poultry,  and  he  thus  delivers 
himself  on  a very  important  subject,  viz.,  the  number  of  hens  to  be  allotted 
to  each  individual  cock : — 

11  Twelve  hens  shall  be  enough  for  one  good  cock,  which  will  cause  the 
progeny  to  be  more  of  a color ; but  yet  our  ancestors  used  to  give  only  five 
hens  to  one  cock,  thus  producing  a diversity  of  color.  To  have  the  hens  all 
of  one  color  is  preferable,  some  white,  and  these  are  considered  the  best 
layers.” 

Bradly,  in  his  Farmers’  Director , advises  one  cock  to  be  left  with  seven 
or  eight  hens,  and  hints  that  if  a greater  number  be  allowed  him,  the  eggs 
will  not  prove  fertile.  The  author  of  the  Complete  Farmer , and  the  writer 
of  the  article  on  poultry,  in  Rees’  Encyclopedia , recommend  the  same  number. 

M.  Parmentier,  a very  eminent  French  writer,  says,  that  one  cock  is  much 
more  than  sufficient  for  fifteen,  or  even  twenty  hens,  provided  he  be  a young, 
vigorous  and  healthy  bird. 

Those  who  breed  game  fowl  for  combat,  and  whose  object  is,  of  course, 
the  production  of  strong  chickens,  limit  the  number  to  four,  or  at  most  fire. 
Mr.  Mowbray  says,  that  in  winter,  or  cold  and  damp  weather,  a cock  should 
only  have  four  hens.  M.  Bose  ( Encyclopedia  Methodique ) says,  that  in  spring 
alone  should  any  cock  have  fewer  than  twenty  hens.  M.  Dickson  says, 
that  the  number  of  hens  allowed  to  one  cock  should  vary  with  the  object 
you  have  in  view ; and  Mr.  Nolan,  a most  excellent  judge,  thinks  that  in 
order  to  secure  a prime  breed,  a cock  two  years  old  should  not  have  more 
than  five  hens. 

If  you  look  for  profit  to  the  production  of  eggs  alone,  I should  say  that  one 
cock — if  a stout,  young,  and  lively  bird — may  have  as  many  as  twenty-four 
hens.  If,  however,  you  want  to  obtain  strong  and  thriving  chickens,  you 
must  restrict  him  to  six,  or  at  most,  eight.  If  your  object  be  the  improve- 
ment of  a worn-out  or  degenerate  breed,  the  fewer  hens  you  allow  to  one 
cock  the  better,  and  you  should  not,  at  any  rate,  allow  him  more  than  three. 

As  to  the  selection  of  a good  cock,  Columella  thus  insiructs  us: — “It  is 


28 


DOMESTIC  FO’VI.. 


not  good  to  keep  a cock  if  he  be  not  stout,  hot  and  knavish,  and  of  the  same 
color  as  the  hens  are,  and  with  as  many  claws  ; but  in  his  body  to  be  higher 
raised,  his  comb  to  be  high  and  red  as  blood,  and  straight  withal ; his  eyes 
black  or  azure  color;  his  beak  short  and  crooked,  with  a grey  crest,  shining 
like  red  or  white,  and  all  his  feathers,  from  the  head  to  the  breast,  to  be  of  a 
changeable  color,  varying  like  gold  or  yellow;  his  heart  large  and  big;  his 
muscles  on  his  wings  big  like  one’s  arm,  with  long  wings  ; his  tail  fair  and 
long,  with  two  ranks  of  crooked  and  rising  feathers ; and  to  be  oft  crowing 
is  a sign  of  lusty  courage.  The  red  color  is  thought  to  be  the  best  cock; 
his  legs  short  and  strong,  his  thighs  great  and  thick,  and  well  covered  with 
feathers,  and  his  legs  armed  with  long  spurs,  rough  and  pointed — straight  in 
body,  light,  fierce,  eager  in  battle,  vigilant,  ready,  and  often  crowing,  and  not 
easily  feared.” 

Markham,  in  Cheap  and  Good  Husbandries  almost  repeats  the  direc- 
tions of  Columella  verbatim , and  guarantees  their  correctness  with  the  au- 
thority of  his  own  opinion. 

M.  Parmentier  recommends  the  cock  to  be  chosen  of  a middling  size,  car- 
rying the  head  high,  having  a quick,  animated  look,  strong,  shrill  voice,  short 
bill,  very  red  comb,  large  wattles,  broad  breast,  strong  wings,  black  or  dull 
red  plumage,  thighs  muscular,  spurs  strong,  claws  bent  and  sharp,  free  in  his 
action,  a frequent  crower,  and  frequently  scratching  the  ground  in  search  of 
worms,  not,  however,  for  himself,  but  to  treat  the  hens. 

Not  to  weary  my  readers  with  an  unnecessary  citation  of  too  many  au- 
thorities, I may  just  observe,  for  their  direction,  that  the  cock  should  be  in 
perfect  health;  feather*  close  and  rather  short,  chest  compact  and  firm;  full 
in  the  girth  ; lofty  and  elastic  gait ; thigh  large  and  firm ; beak  short,  and 
thick  at  its  insertion. 

Next  to  health  and  strength,  age  is  to  be  duly  considered.  Neither  select 
a cock  that  is  too  old,  nor  one  that  is  too  young ; let  the  age  be  from  a year 
and  a half  to  three  years  and  a half.  Some  cocks  retain  their  vigor  till  they 
are  even  past  six  years  old,  and  some  make  a display  of  unquestionable 
virility  at  the  premature  age  of  five  or  six  months.  It  is  far  better,  however, 
for  the  fancier  “ to  be  sure  than  sorry.”  Secure  a young  and  vigorous  bird 
at  the  summit  of  his  prime,  steer  equally  clear  of  premature  and  often  decep- 
tive developments,  and  of  incipient  age  and  decrepitude — avoid  all  extremes. 

Mascall,  following  Columella  and  Stephanus,  says— '“The  signs  of  a good 
hen  are  these — a tawny  color  or  a russet  are  accounted  the  chiefest  colors  ; 
and  next,  those  hens  which  have  the  pens  of  their  wings  blackish,  not  all 
black,  but  partly  so.  As  for  the  grey  and  the  white  hens,  they  are  nothing 
so  profitable.” 

Markham  tells  us  that  we  must  lay  even  more  stress  on  the  selection  of  a 
hen  than  on  the  choice  of  a cock,  and  insists  on  “grey,  grissel,  speckt,  or 
yellowish — black  or  brown  is  not  amiss.” 


SELECTION  OF  STOCK. 


20 


These  directions  may  have  been  all  very  well  in  olden  times,  ere  the  many 
new  and  valuable  varieties  of  fowl  now  known  were  familiar  to  the  poultry- 
yard,  but  as  far  as  color  is  concerned,  they  can  no  longer  be  followed,  unless 
with  respect  to  the  common  Dunghill  breed.  Among  these  latter  you  may, 
of  course,  make  what  selection  you  please  as  to  color,  but  the  more  valuable 
and  distinctly  marked  varieties  have  each  its  own  hue,  and  you  must, 
consequently,  just  take  them  as  you  get  them.  Perhaps  the  best  mode  of 
forming  a conclusion  as  to  the  most  profitable  color  would  be  to  keep  a 
memorandum-book,  and  to  enter  regularly  the  age,  color,  and  every  other 
particular  connected  with  your  hens ; and,  of  course,  keep  also  a correct  ac- 
count of  their  proceeds,  whether  as  to  eggs  or  chickens.  The  average  of  a 
year’s  experience  might  lead  to  some  satisfactory  conclusion. 

The  disposition  of  the  cock  and  hens  should  likewise  become  a subject  of 
careful  observation.  Some  cocks  are  of  an  unsocial,  unconjugal  disposition — 
will  persecute  and  maltreat  their  hens,  and  will,  if  even  they  leave  them 
alone,  direct  their  domineering  practices  towards  the  younger  inmates  of  the 
poultry-yard. 

It  is  often  necessary  to  change  the  cock,  or  replace  one  removed  by  death, 
and  I must  caution  my  readers  to  manage  this  with  the  utmost  possible  cir- 
cumspection. Poultry,  although  naturally  gregarious,  are  by  no  means  in- 
discriminate in  their  attachments,  and  hens  will  not,  in  every  instance,  ad- 
mit the  company  of  a new  husband  when  his  predecessor  has  been  removed. 

Sometimes  you  will  suffer  annoyance  from  the  pugnacity  of  your  cocks. 
This  pugnacity  is  said  to  arise  from  an  unusually  amorous  temperament,  and 
a consequent  jealousy  of  disposition.  Mascall,  or  rather  his  original,  Col- 
umella, recommends,  as  a cure  for  this — “To  slake  that  heat  of  jealousie,  he 
shall  slitte  two  pieces  of  thick  leather,  and  put  them  on  his  legges,  and  those 
will  hang  over  his  feete,  which  will  correct  the  vehement  heat  of  jealousies 
within  him.”  And  M.  Parmentier  confirms  this  direction,  adding,  that 
“ such  a bit  of  leather  will  cause  the  most  turbulent  cock  to  become  as  quiet 
as  a man  who  is  bound  hand  and  foot.” 

Although  the  cock  can  by  no  means  boast  much  of  the  melody  of  his  voice, 
he  will  on  no  account  suffer  himself  to  be  out-crowed  if  he  can  help  it ; hence, 
you  may  observe  a cock  pause  after  each  crow,  in  order  to  ascertain  if  he  be 
answered  by  a rival,  and  the  succeeding  vocal  attempt  will,  if  possible,  be 
yet  louder  and  more  discordant. 

Cocks  and  hens  are  both  fond  of  cleanliness  and  order  in  their  plumage,  and 
are,  especially  the  former,  constantly  pecking  and  pruning  their  feathers.  It 
was  formerly,  but  erroneously,  supposed,  that  during  this  process  an  oily 
fluid,  secreted  in  the  gland  near  the  tail,  was  extracted  from  its  receptacle  by 
the  pressure  of  the  beak,  and  then  disseminated  over  the  remainder  of  the 
plumage,  as  a process  necessary  to  render  the  feathers  waterproof.  In  order 
to  dissipate  this  illusion,  I need  only  observe,  that  the  tail-less  fowl,  though 


30 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


they  are  destitute  of  that  part  of  the  body  where  this  gland  is  situated,  ana 
have,  consequently,  no  oil  to  extract,  go  through  precisely  the  same  process 
of  pecking  and  pruning,  and  their  feathers  are  just  as  much  waterproof  as 
those  of  any  other  fowl.  In  my  opinion,  this  fondness  of  pecking  and  pru- 
ning is  partly  a provision  of  nature,  designed  to  relieve  some  irritation  in  the 
skin,  and  thus  conduce  to  health,  and  partly  proceeds  from  a pure  love  of 
cleanliness  and  regularity  in  the  plumage,  inherent  in  all  varieties  of  fowl. 

In  the  choice  of  a hen  for  sitting,  look  for  a large  bird,  with  large,  wide- 
spreading  wings.  Though  large , however,  she  must  not  be  heavy,  nor  leggy. 
No  one  of  any  judgment  would  set  a Malay  hen,  as,  in  such  case,  not  only 
would  many  eggs  remain  uncovered,  but  many,  also,  would  be  trampled  upon 
and  broken.  Elderly  hens  will  be  found  more  willing  to  sit  than  young  and 
giddy  pullets ; indeed,  the  latter  should  never  be  allowed  to  sit,  until,  at  least, 
the  second  year  of  their  laying. 

The  Spanish  fowl  are  not  generally  good  sitters;  but  they  are  excellent 
layers.  The  Dorking  reverse  the  order,  being  better  sitters  than  layers ; and 
these  qualities  will  also  be  found  to  extend  pretty  generally  to  hens  parta- 
king of  the  prevailing  colors  of  these  two  varieties,  the  black  being  usually 
the  best  layers,  and  but  careless  or  indifferent  sitters ; w7hile  grey  or  checkered 
hens  (especially  such  as  have  light  colored  legs)  are  the  best  you  can  pro- 
cure for  sitting  hens. 

You  will  be  informed  of  a hen’s  anxiety  to  sit,  by  a peculiar  change  in 
her  voice  to  a distinctive  duck , wrhich  continues  after  hatching,  until  the 
eliickens  no  longer  require  her  maternal  care.  The  heat  of  the  hen’s  body 
is  also  materially  increased ; hence,  when  it  is  desired  to  check  a hen’s  anx- 
iety to  sit,  the  common  practice  for  allaying  this  heat  is  immersion  in  cold 
water. 

If  you  entertain  doubts  of  the  steadiness  of  the  hen  you  desire  to  set,  try 
her  constancy  by  placing  her  for  a few  days  on  some  pieces  of  chalk  shaped 
so  as  to  resemble  eggs,  or  put  her  on  three  or  four  eggs  of  little  or  ho  value. 

If  you  desire  to  have  chickens  produced  at  some  particular  time,  when 
you  have  no  hen  ready  to  sit,  you  may  induce  the  desire  of  incubation  by 
stimulating  food — such  as  toast,  or  dry  bread  steeped  in  good  ale,  well-boiled 
oatmeal  porridge,  with  a little  Cayenne  pepper  mixed  through  it,  or  hard- 
boiled  eggs,  and  fresh  raw  meat,  cut  small.  Fomenting  the  belly  with  vin- 
egar, in  which  pepper  has  been  steeped,  is  a good  practice.  But  do  not  suf- 
fer any  one  to  persuade  you  to  pluck  off  the  feathers,  or  to  use  nettles — prac- 
tices more  cruel  than  efficacious.  Artificial  warmth  is  also  never  to  be  lost 
sight  of. 

If  you  find  a hen  soon  tire,  oi  become  impatient  of  sitting,  only  give  her 
about  half  the  usual  quantity  of  food,  and  then,  when  she  returns  to  the  nest, 
feed  from  the  hand  with  such  dainties  as  you  have  found  to  be  her  favorites. 
Some  will  recommend  the  food  to  be  placed  w'ithin  the  hen’s  read  in  order 


SELECTION  OF  EGOS  FOR  HATCHING. 


31 


that  hunger,  at  all  events,  may  not  be  a means  of  inducing  her  to  leave  her 
important  post.  It  is  not,  however,  hunger  that  induces  the  impatience  to 
which  I have  alluded;  and  this  total  deprivation  of  exercise  is  most  preju- 
dicial to  the  poor  bird’s  health.  For  the  first  and  last  week  of  incubation, 
however,  the  hen  should  only  be  allowed  to  quit  the  nest  once  daily,  and 
should  not  be  longer  than  ten  minutes  absent  from  the  eggs. 

Some  hens,  on  the  other  hand,  are  as  obstinately  constant  in  their  sitting 
as  those  I have  been  describing  are  the  reverse  ; and  birds  possessing  this 
temperament,  will  frequently  sit  until  they  half  starve  themselves,  if  not 
prevented.  Mr.  Lawrence  says,  that  he  has  had  hens  which,  under  these 
circumstances,  reduced  themselves  to  such  a pitch  of  weakness  as  even  to 
faint ; and,  after  the  chickens  were  hatched,  to  be  so  weak  as  to  be  scarcely 
able  to  attend  them. 

Markham  scouts  the  idea  of  any  hen  sitting  too  long,  but  he  is  in  error.  I 
would  not,  as  some  do,  recommend  such  a hen  to  be  fed  upon  her  nest,  but  \ 
would  remove  her  at  proper  intervals,  and  coax  her  to  eat  by  presenting  hex 
with  delicacies.  If  she  consent  to  eat  a sufficiency,  drinking  will  be  sure  to 
follow.  I may  here  observe,  that  if  a hen  acquire  the  evil  habit  of  breaking 
and  eating  her  eggs,  boil  an  egg  hard,  break  away  a little  of  the  shell,  and 
give  it  to  her  while  hot.  If  she  peck  at  it,  and,  of  course,  burn  herself,  you 
may  reckon  upon  having  cured  her  of  her  vicious  propensity ; but  should  the 
first  painful  lesson  prove  ineffectual,  try  a second.  You  will  seldom  or  never 
have  to  resort  to  a third.  I think  that  experience  justifies  me  in  arriving  at 
the  conclusion  that  this  habit  originates  in  a craving  for  calcareous  matter, 
which  I have  already  stated  to  be  necessary  to  the  well-being  of  fowl.  If 
your  hens  be  supplied  with  chalk  and  sand  your  eggs  will  not  be  touched. 

To  preserve  eggs  for  hatching,  pack  them  with  the  small  end  downward 
in  sand,  wood  ashes,  turf,  oats,  or  other  material,  for  excluding  air.  But  if 
they  are  to  be  kept  any  length  of  time,  dip  them,  when  new  laid,  in  oil  or  pure 
hog’s-lard  warm — not  hot ; rub  the  greasy  substance  into  the  pores  with  the 
finger,  and  then  pack  them  with  the  small  end  downwards  in  a box  or  bar- 
rel. For  a sea  voyage,  a coat  of  varnish  would  be  an  experiment  worth 
trying.  Care  should  be  taken  to  push  them  closely,  so  that  they  may  be 
shaken  as  little  as  may  be. 


32 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SELECTION  OF  EGGS  FOR  SETTING — THEIR  MANAGEMENT  DURING  INCJBA- 
TION AND  TREATMENT  OF  THE  CHICK  AFTER  HATCHING. 

In  selecting  eggs  for  setting,  bear  in  mind  what  I have  said  as  to  the  numbe* 
of  hens  that  the  cock  should  associate  with ; and  choose  such  eggs  as  you 
have  reason  to  believe  have  been  rendered  productive.  Those  of  medium 
size,  that  is  to  say,  the  average  size  that  the  hen  lays,  are  most  apt  to  prove 
prolific.  Sketchley  tells  us  that  he  has  always  found  the  round  egg  to  con- 
tain the  female  chick,  and  that  of  oblong  shape,  the  male.  This,  however, 
though  it  may  have  been  newly  discovered  by  Sketchley,  was  known  to 
Columella  and  Stephanus.  If  you  examine  the  egg  between  your  eye  and  a 
candle,  you  will  be  able  to  discern  the  position  of  the  vacancy  caused  by  the 
little  air-bag  at  the  blunt  end  of  the  shell.  If  this  be  in  the  center,  say  these 
authors,  the  egg  will  produce  a cock ; if  at  one  side,  a hen.  This  doctrine, 
however,  has  long  been  abandoned  by  physiologists,  and  upon  the  best  au- 
thority ; nevertheless,  though  I have  no  faith  in  those  who  pretend  to  tell 
the  sex  of  the  chickens  from  the  eggs,  you  may  form  a very  fair  judgment 
if  your  eggs  are  impregnated,  from  their  specific  gravity.  Put  them  into  a 
bowl  of  tepid  water,  and  reject  such  as  do  not  sink  to  the  bottom.  Choose, 
also,  such  as  present  a marked  disparity  of  size  between  the  two  ends  ; and 
while  collecting,  keep  the  eggs  dry,  clean,  and  in  a wTell  ventilated  part  of 
the  house.  Such  as  are  equal  in  size  at  both  ends,  usually  contain  two  yolks  • 
and  these,  be  it  observed,  instead  of  producing  twin-chickens,  as  might 
naturally  be  expected,  commonly  produce  monstrosities  : reject  them.  The 
number  of  eggs  to  be  placed  under  a hen  is  from  nine  to  eleven.  The  num- 
ber is,  however,  of  course,  dependent  on  the  size  of  both  eggs  and  hen  ; an 
odd  number  is  to  be  preferred,  as  being  better  adapted  for  covering  in  the  nest. 
Be  sure  that  they  are  all  fresh  ; and  carefully  note  down  the  day  on  which 
you  place  them  beneath  the  hen.  Never  turn  the  eggs  ; the  hen  can  do  that 
better  than  you.  About  the  twelfth  day  of  incubation,  you  may  be  enabled 
to  reject  such  eggs  as  are  unfruitful.  For  this  purpose,  hold  the  egg  between 
your  hands  in  the  sunshine ; if  the  shadow  which  it  forms,  waver,  keep  the 
egg,  as  the  wavering  of  the  shadow  is  occasioned  by  the  motion  of  the  chick 
within ; if  it  remain  stationary,  throw  it  away.  If  your  eggs  have  been 
recently  laid,  the  chick  will  be  developed  earlier  than  otherwise ; if  they 
nave  been  very  fresh,  you  will,  about  the  sixteenth  day,  if  you  apply  your 
ear  to  the  egg,  hear  a gentle  piping  noise  within ; if  the  eggs  have  been  stale, 
this  will  not  be  perceptible  until  about  the  eighteenth  day ; and,  at  this  time, 
tne  yolk,  which  had  previously  lain  outside  and  around  the  chicken,  w'ill  be 
gradually  entering  into  the  body  of  the  bird.  This  serves  as  nourishment  to 


SELECTION’  OF  EGGS  FOR  HATCHING. 


33 


MIDDLE  STAGE  IN  INCUBATION. 


CHICK  JUST  BEFORE  HATCHING. 

£pgs  during  the  process  of  hatching,  broken  to  show  the  means  for  supplying  nuti> 
ment  to  the  chick. 

9* 


the  little  prisoner  until  his  subsequent  efforts  shall  have  set  him  free.  From 
this  period  let  your  attention  be  assiduous,  but,  at  the  same  time,  cautious; 
for  the  hen  has  heard  this  cry  before  you  have,  and  all  her  maternal  anxieties 
and  tenderness  are,  from  that  moment,  so  greatly  augmented,  that  any  nne- 
ccssary  interference  will  only  tend  to  irritate  her. 


FIRST  STAGE  IN  INCUBATION. 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


34 

The  position  which  the  chick  holds  within  the  egg,  isapparer,  ly  anything 
but  advantageous  for  the  work  of  breaking  forth  ; and,  hence,  ij  the  young- 
ling be  weakly,  artificial  aid  is  sometimes  necessary.  This  position  would, 
indeed,  almost  induce  one  to  regard  the  liberation  of  the  chick  by  its  own 
unassisted  efforts,  as  an  impossibility.  I shall  describe  it  briefly  : — The 
neck  slopes  toward  the  belly,  to  about  the  centre  of  which  comes  the  head  ; 
the  head  lies  beneath  the  right  wing,  just  as  that  of  a sleeping  bird ; the  feet 
are  gathered  up  somewhat  like  those  of  a fowl  trussed  for  the  spit,  and  the 
claws  bend  backwards,  till  they  almost  touch  the  head ; and  it  is  in  this  con- 
fined position  that  the  shelly  wall  of  the  prison  has  to  be  broken  through. 
It  must,  therefor^  be  anything  but  easy  work  for  the  little  chick.  The  pro- 
cess of  effecting  the  breaking  of  the  shell,  is  a succession  of  taps  from  the 
beak,  by  which  first  a crack  or  star , with  many  cracks  diverging  from  it, 
takes  place  ; a hole  is  soon  effected,  the  sides  gradually  chip  away,  and  the 
chicken  emerges  from  its  new  sphere  of  being.  Sometimes  the  little  bird, 
on  proceeding  to  leave  the  broken  shell,  unexpectedly  finds  itself  retained  in 
its  place  by  some  accidental  or  irregular  circumstance.  The  shell  may,  for 
instance,  have  been  well  cracked,  and  yet  its  lining  membrane  may  be  so 
tough  as  to  defy  all  the  efforts  of  the  inmate  to  rupture  it,  and  thus  still  pre- 
sent a barrier,  and  often,  without  assistance,  an  insurmountable  one.  Some 
chickens  waste  their  time  striving  to  tear  this  membrane  before  they  have 
made  a sufficient  crack  in  the  shell.  These  had  better  not  receive  assist- 
ance ; they  will  speedily  find  out  their  error,  and  go  to  work  in  a proper 
manner. 

In  every  case  look  through  the  egg  before  helping  the  chick.  That  chicken 
which  comes  out  before  the  whole  of  the  yoke  has  been  absorbed,  will  assur- 
edly prove  to  be  an  unhealthy,  weakly,  little  wretch,  and  will  speedily  die. 
A chicken  must,  previous  to  leaving  the  shell,  have  irmnbed  such  a portion 
of  nutriment  as  will,  at  least,  serve  it  for  four  and-twenty  hours  afterward : 
it  is  for  this  that  the  yolk  is  designed.  Any  unusual  excess  of  light,  or  any 
injudicious  interference  with  the  eggs  toward  the  close  of  incubation,  will 
nearly  always  result  in  causing  the  chicken  to  strive  to  get  out  too  soon,  and 
thu<!  often  occasion  the  loss  of  numbers. 

Neither  are  all  shells,  nor  all  membranes,  of  an  equal  thickness,  and  some 
are  even  preternaturally  obstinate ; hence  another  difficulty  the  chick  has 
to  experience. 

Some  poultry  keepers  will  dip  the  eggs  into  warm  water  the  day  before 
they  think  they  will  be  pecked  at.  This  produces  no  perceptible  difference 
in  the  consistence  of  the  shell ; and  I object  to  the  practice,  not  only  on  the 
score  of  its  total  inutility,  but  as  being  likely  to  injure  the  present  health  ol 
the  chick  ; and  the  warmth  is  likewise  specially  calculated  to  produce  ano- 
ther difficulty  connected  with  its  egress,  viz.,  that  of  being  glued  to  the  shell. 


SELECTION  OF  EGOS  FOR  HATCHING 


35 


the  white  of  egg — the  albumen  which  surrounds  the  chicken  in  the  shell — 
being  convertible  by  heat  into  a kind  of  Glue. 

The  tollowing  is,  perhaps,  the  only  case  in  which  interference  can  prove 
useful : — When  you  find  the  fracture  on  the  outside  of  the  shell  remaining 
the  same  for  five  or  six  hours,  and  when,  on  examining  the  edges  of  this 
fracture,  you  find  them  dry  and  unmoistened  by  any  fluid,  you  may  conclude 
that  assistance  is  called  for,  and  may  proceed  to  render  it,  but,  of  course,  with 
all  possible  caution.  The  best  mode  to  be  adopted  on  such  occasions  is  to 
imitate,  as  nearly  as  possible,  the  natural  efforts  of  the  chicken  itself,  which 
may  be  done  by  sharp,  short  strokes  with  the  back  of  a knife  or  key ; or, 
what  is  better  than  either,  the  point  of  a pair  of  scissors.  Be,  however, 
gentle,  firm,  and  deliberate,  and  take  care  lest  you  penetrate  the  cavity 
of  the  egg.  Having  succeeded  in  making  a sufficient  opening  in  the  shell, 
you  may,  by  a careful  and  tender  use  of  your  fingers,  extricate  the  chick. 
Sometimes  a few  scales  of  albumen,  or  of  the  lining  membrane  of  the  egg, 
reay  remain  on  the  bird’s  plumage  for  some  days.  Do  not  be  uneasy  about 
them.  Leave  them  alone,  and  as  they  dry  they  will  fall  off  themselves.  In 
affording  your  assistance  to  the  embarrassed  chick,  be  extremely  tender  with 
your  fingers.  You  may  otherwise  often  kill  when  your  intention  is  only  to 
cure.  I would  be  disposed  to  permit  at  least  eight  hours  to  elapse  before  1 
resorted  to  mechanical  means  of  interference.  A chick  so  weak  as  to  perish 
before  that  time,  is  not*worth  striving  to  extricate  ; and,  on  the  score  of 
humanity,  its  death  within  the  shell  will  be  less  painful  than  after  quit- 
ting it. 

For  about  twenty-four  hours  after  birth,  the  chick  not  only  can  do  wTell 
enough  without  an)'  extraneous  nourishment,  but  will  positively  be  far  more 
likely  subsequently  to  thrive  if  left  alone.  The  next  day  they  may  be  fed  with 
crumbs  of  bread,  eggs  boiled  hard  and  chopped  fine,  or  cold  oatmeal  porridge 
well  boiled.  After  that  period,  no  harm  can  arise  from  turning  your  new 
brood  in  among  older  chicks  that  already  feed  themselves.  They  will  then 
ordinarily  follow  the  example  of  the  rest,  and  peck  away  at  whatever  is  going. 
In  the  first  four  days  they  require  food  at  least  hourly,  to  supply  the  rapid 
increase  in  bulk  and  feathers.  Damp  is  fatal  to  them.  If  the  breed  is  a fine 
one,  however,  they  will  do  better  with  the  hen,  partaking  of  the  natural 
food  she  scrapes  together  for  them. 

Although  I have  mentioned  yolks  of  eggs,  boiled  hard,  and  broken  down 
with  crumbs  of  bread,  as  food  for  young  chickens,  I consider  this  treatment  to 
be  needlessly  expensive,  except  in  particular  cases  ; and  I have  found  plain 
crumbs,  or  cold  meal  porridge,  that  has  been  very  well  boiled,  and  not  burned, 
do  nearly  as  well.  Small  grained  meal,  given  raw,  or  slightly  scalded,  and  suf- 
fered to  cool  down  to  a very  low  degree  of  tepidity,  will  also  be  found  useful 
and  good.  Do  not  forget  that,  in  all  probability,  thirst  will  be  present  before 
hunger,  and  there  ought,  therefore,  always  to  be  a flat,  shallow  pan  or  plate  of 


86 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


clean  spring  water  left  within  reach,  and  the  hen  herself,  glad  of  a little  re- 
freshment after  so  long  a task,  will  usually  lead  the  way  to  it. 

If  the  chickens  be  hatched  during  cold  weather  they  will  require  artificial 
warmth,  or,  at  the  very  least,  comfortable  housing.  The  kitchen  of  a farm- 
house will  afford  this  in  perfection.  Recollect  that  setting  your  hen  in,  or  at 
the  approach  of,  winter,  is  stark  folly;  freedom  from  annoyance,  comfortable 
housing,  and  a sheltered  walk,  are  all  that  they  require — an  hour’s  sunshine 
is  worth  more  than  a year’s  wrapping  up  in  tow.  If  your  chicks  be  very 
weakly  you  may  cram  them  with  crumbs  of  good  white  bread  steeped  in 
milk  ; but  at  the  same  time  recollect  that  their  little  crops  are  not  capable  of 
holding  more  than  the  bulk  of  a pea — so  rather  under  than  over  feed.  If 
your  hen  have  been  much  exhausted  by  hatching,  you  will  do  well  to  cram 
her  with  crumbs  of  bread  steeped  in  diluted  spirits  or  ginger  cordial. 

The  following  hatching  table  exhibits  the  period  of  incubation  with  the 
denizens  of  the  poultry  yard : — 


Swan 

Number  of  eggs. 
5 to  10 

Days. 

42 

Goose 

12  to  15 

. . 30 

Duck 

12  to  15 

30. 

Turkey 

15  to  20 

31. 

Peafowl 

5 to  7 

29. 

Guinea  Fowl 

7 to  9 

30. 

Hen  . 

9 to  13 

• *1 

CHAPTER  VII 

VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


The  varieties  of  the  Domestic  Fowl  most  desirable  in  an  amateur’s  collec- 
tion may  be  classed  as  follows : — 


1.  The  Malay  Fowl,  from  its  size  and 
strength,  is  admirably  adapted  for 
crossing  with  the  Dorking  and  other 
native  breeds. 

2.  The  Java  Fowl,  nearly  resembling, 
and  in  the  opinion  of  some,  identical 
with,  the  Malay. 

3.  The  Cochin  China  breed,  equal  in 
most  respects,  and  more  prolific  than 
the  Malay. 

4.  The  Spanish  Fowl,  perhaps  the  best 
breed  known  for  laying. 

5.  The  Polish  Fowl,  a noble  and  very 
beautiful  bird,  and  an  excellent  layer. 

C.  The  Spangled  Varieties,  including 
the  whole  class  of  Gold  and  Silver 
SfcANGLED,  known  in  different  coun- 


tries as  Spangled  Hamburghs,  Every 
day  Dutch,  Bolton  Bays,  Bolton  Greys, 
Chittyprats,  Creoles,  Corals,  &c. 

7.  The  Speckled  and  White  Dorking, 
the  most  delicate  of  all  the  varieties 
for  the  table. 

8.  The  Sussex  Fowl,  me  st  probably  a va- 
riety of  the  Dorking. 

9.  The  Game  Fowl,  graceful  of  form  and 
plumage,  with  undying  courage,  and 
excellent  for  crossing  with  common 
varieties. 

10.  The  Pheasant  Fowl,  erroneously  said 
to  originate  in  a cross  with  the  Cock 
Pheasant. 

11.  The  Bantams,  more  remarkable  foi 
their  beauty  than  any  other  quality. 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


37 


THE  MALAY  FOWL. 

The  Malay  Fowl  has,  as  its  name  implies,  been  brought  originally  from 
the  peninsula  of  that  name  at  the  southern  point  of  the  continent  of  India. 
He  stands  very  high  on  the  legs,  is  long-necked,  serpent-headed,  and  is  in 


color  usually  dark  brown,  streaked  with  yellow,  sometimes,  however, 
white ; his  form  and  appearance  are  grand  and  striking  in  the  extreme,  and 
he  is  no  small  embellishment  to  the  poultry-yard.  This  fowl  is  also  fre- 
quently called  the  Chittagong. 

The  kind  of  Malay  fowl,  however,  that  were  originally  imported,  were  by 
no  means  such  birds  as  I could  recommend  to  the  notice  of  the  breeder,  their 
size  possessing  too  much  offal,  as  neck,  legs,  and  thighs,  and  the  flesh,  more- 
over, being  dark-colored  and  oily.  Another  variety  has  been  since  intro- 
duced, which  is  well  worthy  of  our  attention.  As  a cross,  this  Malay  has, 
indeed,  proved  a most  valuable  addition  to  our  poultry-yard,  the  cross-breed 
possessing  all  the  hardiness  of  our  native  domestic  fowl,  with  the  gigantic 
size  of  the  foreign  stock. 

II.  THE  JAVA  FOWL. 

Resembling  the  Malay  in  shape,  but  presenting,  in  portions  of  its  plum- 
age, the  coloring  of  the  Dorking.  I hold  this,  its  common  appellation,  to  be 
a misnomer,  and  regard  it  as  the  result  of  a cross  between  a Malay  and 


38 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


Dorking  or  Spanish.  In  qualities  it  resembles  the  Malay,  but  s not  val- 
uable as  a cross  with  other  breeds. 

THE  SHAKEBAG. 

A good  many  years  ago,  there  used  to  be  a variety  of  fowl  much  in  re- 
quest in  England,  called  the  t;  shakebag,”  or  the  “ Duke  of  Leeds’  fowl,”  his 
grace,  of  that  name,  about  60  or  70  years  ago,  having  been  a great  amateur 
breeder  of  them.  These  fowl  were  as  large  as  the  Malays,  but  differed 
from  them  in  the  superior  whiteness  and  tenderness  of  their  flesh,  as  also  in 
their  very  superior  fighting  abilities.  The  name  of  this  fowl  seems  to  have 
arisen  from  the  old  practice  of  cock-fighting,  when  the  fancy  used  to  chal- 
lenge all  comers  having  their  cocks  concealed  in  a bag,  and  the  tremendous 
size  and  power  of  the  Duke  of  Leeds’  fowl  proving  so  far  superior  to  all 
competitors,  thus  usually  insuring  conquest,  and  eventually  obtaining  for  it 
the  name,  par  excellence , of  shakebag , since  corrupted  into  Shackbag. 

This  fine  bird  was  not  unfrequently  substituted  for  a turkey,  and  this  to 
the  great  convenience  of  poulterers  and  inn-keepers. 

This  “ shakebag”  or  “ shackbag”  fowl,  so  lauded  by  Mowbray,  but  with 
the  real  origin  of  which  he  has  confessed  himself  unacquainted,  unless,  in- 
deed, as  an  improved  breed  of  dunghill,  would  appear,  if  we  can  judge  from 
the  description  of  Dixon  and  other  writers  on  poultry,  to  have  been  neither 
more  nor  less  than  an  offshoot  of  the  great  Paduan,  Polish,  or  Jago  fowl, 
the  immediate  domesticated  descendant  of  the  “ Gallus  giganteus,”  already 
described  ; and  I have  particularly  to  request  my  readers  on  no  account  to 
confound  it  with  the  Malay.  This  fowl  would,  indeed,  seem  to  have  been 
almost  identical  with  the  great  wild  bird  of  Sumatra,  but  it  is  now  altogether 
unknown  to  the  London  dealers.  This  same  fowl  was  described,  about  two 
centuries  and  a half  ago,  by  Aldrovand,  as  “ very  handsome,  adorned  with 
five  different  colors — viz.,  black,  white,  green,  red,  and  yellow ; body  black, 
tinged  with  green,  tail  of  the  same  color ; base  of  the  feathers  white ; some 
quill  feathers  of  the  wings  white  above ; the  head  adorned  with  a black 
crest.” 

III.  THE  COCHIN  CHINA  FOWL. 

This  gigantic  bird  has  been  only  very  recently  introduced  into  Great  Bri- 
tain and  America.  The  breed  have  since  become  comparatively  well  known 
and  diffused. 

This  variety  of  fowl  so  far  surpasses,  both  in  size  and  power,  all  that  we 
have  ever  yet  seen  in  the  shape  of  poultry,  as  to  have  led  many  persons  not 
conversant  with  zoology,  on  first  viewing  them,  to  refer  them  to  the  family 
of  Bustards.  They  are,  however,  genuine  poultry.  Their  general  color 
is  rich  glossy  brown,  or  deep  bay ; on  the  breast  is  sometimes  found  a mark- 
ing of  a blackish  color,  and  of  the  shape  of  a horse-shoe.  The  horse-shoe 
mark  on  the  breast  is  not  an  infallible  sign  of  the  breed.  The  comb  is  of  a 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


39 


THE  COCHIN  CHINA  HEN. 


40 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


«> 


medium  size,  sometimes,  but  not  always,  serrated — but  not  deeply  so  ; and 
the  wattles  are  double.  Besides  their  gigantic  size,  however,  these  fowls 
possess  other  distinctive  characteristics,  among  which  I may  mention,  as  the 
most  striking,  that  the  wing  is  jointed,  so  that  the  posterior  half  can  at  plea- 
sure be  dojbled  up  and  brought  forward  between  the  anterior  half  and  the 
body.  The  birds  can  do  this  at  pleasure  ; and  the  appearance  the  manoeuvre 
imparts  to  their  form  has  procured  for  them  the  title  of  “ostrich  fowl.”  The 
flesh  is  white  and  delicate.  The  eggs  laid  by  the  hen  of  this  variety  are 


SHANGHAIS. 


large,  of  a light  chocolate  color,  and  possess  a very  delicate  flavor.  They  are 
very  prolific,  not  unfrequently  laying  two  and  occasionally  even  three  eggs 
on  the  same  day,  and  within  a few  moments  of  each  other.  The  Cochin 
China  fowl  is  well  known  in  America  under  the  name  of  Shanghai,  being 
the  same  fowl  with  another  name. 

IV.  THE  SPANISH  FOWL. 

This  fowl  is  clad  in  black  plumage,  but  possesses  quite  the  reverse  ol 
black  flesh  I regard  these  birds  as  the  result  of  the  highest  possible  arti- 
ficial culture,  and  adduce,  in  support  of  my  opinion,  their  unusually  large 
comb  and  wattles,  characteristics  not  commonly  to  be  met  with  among  the 
primitive  arieties. 


VARIETIES  OF  TFIE  DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


41 


The  Spanish  fowl  is,  perhaps,  a little  inferior  in  size  to  the  old  shake- 
bag,”  but  in  every  other  quality,  wherein  excellence  and  value  are  to  be 
looked  for.  it  is  more  than 
that. bird’s  equal.  The  color 
of  the  Spanish  fowl  is  a 
glossy  black,  and  the  lea- 
thers of  the  legs,  thighs,  and 
belly  are  particularly  decided 
in  their  hue,  and  of  a velvety 
aspect.  It  is  a stately  bird, 
and  of  a grave  and  majestic 
deportment,  and  is,  in  either 
utility  or  beauty,  to  be  sur 
passed  by  none  of  its  con- 
geners. One  of  the  most 
ft  liking  characteristics  of 
this  fowl  is  a white  cheek, 
and  the  comb  and  wattles  afe 
singularly  large,  simple,  and 
of  a very  high  color ; the 
feet  and  legs  are  of  a leaden 
color,  except  the  soles  of  the 
feet,  which  are  of  a dirty 
fleshy  hue.  A full  grown 
cock  will  weigh  about  7 5 
lbs. ; the  hen  about  65.  This  is  a fowl  well  deserving  the  attention  of  the 
breeder,  and  present  no  peculiarities  of  constitution  that  would  suggest  diffi- 
culties in  either  hatching  or  rearing.  As  table  birds  they  hold  a place  in  the 
very  first  rank,  their  flesh  being  particularly  white,  tender  and  juicy,  and  the 
skin  possessing  that  beautifully  clear  white  hue,  so  essential  a requisite  for 
birds  designed  for  the  consumption  of  the  gourmand.  The  hens  are  likewise 
layers  of  the  first  order;  and  of  all  naturalized  or  indigenous  varieties  of 
fowl,  with  the  exception  of  the  Columbian,  these  lay  the  largest  and  the 
best  flavored  eggs.  They  are,  besides,  prolific,  extremely  easily  fed,  and,  in 
short,  I know  of  no  fowl  I would  rather  recommend  to  the  notice  of  the 
breeder ; but  let  me  here  observe,  that  spurious  specimens  of  this  fowl  are 
often  in  the  market,  which  will  occasion,  perhaps,  an  equal  outlay  at  their 
original  purchase — will  decidedly  cost  as  much  to  feed — be,  perhaps,  harder 
to  rear,  but  will  most  unquestionably  not  bring  in  an  equal  return  in  the  way 
of  profit.  By  applying,  in  the  first  instance,  to  a breeder  if  known  respec- 
tability, you  will  avoid  much  disappointment ; and  though  you  may  conceive 
the  price  demanded  of  you  to  be  high,  it  may  not,  perhaps,  at  the  same  time, 
be  high©''  than  what  you  might  have  foolishly  paid  for  a bad  article;  and 


THE  SPANISH  FOWL. 


42 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


even  should  you  have  to  pay  an  extra  price,  do  so  willingly,  and,  recollect, 
ing  the  old  proverb,  avoid  being  “ penny  wise  and  pound  foolish.” 

THE  COLUMBIAN. 

A very  noble  fowl,  presenting  the  appearance  of  a cross  between  Spanish 
and  Malay,  but  possessing  so  much  nobility  and  stateliness  of  aspect  that  I 
am  loth  to  regard  it  otherwise  than  as  a distinct  and  very  primitive  variety. 
The  eggs  are  particularly  large.  My  fowl,  of  this  breed,  lay  eggs  averaging 
in  weight  from  44  oz.  to  4£  oz.,  seldom,  however,  laying  more  frequently 
than  every  second  day.  These  fowl  are  natives  of  Columbia,  on  the  Spanish 
main  in  South  America;  and  I think  it  not  improbable  that  they  are  the 
origin  of  the  breed  now  known  as  Spanish.” 

V.  THE  POLISH  FOWL. 

The  Golden  Spangled  is  one  of  no  ordinary  beauty ; it  is  well  and  very 
neatly  made  ; has  a good  body,  and  no  very  great  offal.  On  the  crest,  im- 
mediately above  the  beak,  are  two  small  fleshy  horns,  resembling,  to  some 
extent,  an  abortive  comb.  Above  this  crest,  and  occupying  the  place  of  a 
comb,  is  a very  large  brown  or  yellow  tuft,  the  feathers  composing  it  dark- 
ening towards  their  extremities.  Under  the  insertion  of  the  lower  mandi- 
ble, or  that  portion  of  the  neck  corresponding  to  the  chin  in  man,  is  a full, 
dark-colored  tuft,  somewhat  resembling  a beard.  The  wattles  are  very 
small.  In  the  golden  variety,  the  hackles  on  the  neck  are  of  a brilliant 
orange,  or  golden  yellow ; and  the  general  ground-color  of  the  body  is  of 
the  same  hue,  but  somewhat  darker.  The  thighs  are  of  a dark  brown,  or 
blackish  shade,  and  the  legs  and  feet  are  of  a bluish  gray.  The  full  grown 
cock  weighs  about  six  pounds,  and  the  hen  five  and  a-half  pounds;  the  eggs 
moderate  in  size,  and  very  abundant. 

In  the  Silver  Spangled  variety,  the  only  perceptible  difference  is  that  the 
ground-color  is  a silvery  white.  The  extremity,  and  a portion  of  the  ex- 
treme margin  of  each  feather,  are  black,  presenting,  when  in  a state  of  rest, 
the  appearance  of  regular  semicircular  marks  or  spangles ; and  hence  the 
name  of  “ Spangled,”  the  varieties  being  termed  gold  or  silver,  according  to 
the  prevailing  color  being  bright  yellow,  or  silvery  white.  In  meie  excel- 
lence of  flesh,  and  as  layers,  they  are  inferior  to  the  Dorking  or  Spanish  va- 
rieties. 

Of  the  Polish  fowl  there  are  several  subvarieties.  The  Polish  fowl  is, 
perhaps,  the  most  unchanged  from  the  primitive  stock  of  any  we  are  now 
acquainted  with,  being  beyond  doubt  the  immediate  and  almost  unmixed 
decendar.4:  of  the  “ Gallus  giganteus,”  or  great  wild  cock  of  Sumatra.  The 
varieties  of  Polish  fowl  are — 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


43 


I. — The  Spangled  Polish. — A bird 
of  extraordinary  beauty,  extremely 
scarce,  and  very  difficult  to  be  pro- 
cured. This  fowl  presents  a sym- 
metrical and  regular  combination 
of  the  following  colors,  viz. : — A 
bright  orange,  a clear  white,  a bril- 
liant green,  and  a jetty  black,  soft- 
ened down  with  a rich  and  pure 
brown,  every  feather  being  tipped 
with  white,  so  as  to  produce  the 
effect  whence  has  been  derived  the 
term  of  spangled.  The  color  of  the 
hen  is  a prevailing  golden  yellow, 
with  white  spangles,  like  the  cock. 
In  the  cock  the  thighs  are  black, 
gold  spangled  polish  hen.  and  are,  likewise,  though  in  a less 

degree,  marked  and  spangled  with 
black  and  golden  yellow.  The  hinder  end  of  the  body  is  furnished  with 
green  and  orange-brown  hackles,  and  the  tail  is  carried  well  up.  The  flesh 
of  these  birds  is  of  good  quality,  and  they  are  very  prolific.  They  also  fatten 
quickly,  and  have,  by  some,  been  compared  to  the  Dorking  for  similarity  of 
flesh  and  other  excellences  of  quality. 


II. — The  second  variety  ol 
the  Polish  fowl  is  the  well- 
known  black  fowl,  with  a white 
tuft  on  the  crown.  These  birds 
were  brought  from  St.  Jago  by 
the  Spaniards,  to  whom  they 
owe  their  first  introduction  into 
Europe.  Their  color  is  a shin- 
ing black,  and  both  cock  and 
hen  have  the  white  top-knot. 
The  head  is  flat,  surmounted  by 
a fleshy  protuberance,  out  of 
which  spring  the  crown  fea- 
thers constituting  the  tuft. 
These  are  remarkably  good  lay- 
ers, and  will,  if  kept  warm,  lay 
nearly  throughout  the  year; 
and  it  is  this  cause,  probably, 
that  has  induced  Mowbray  and 
other  writers  to  confound  them 


WHITE-CRESTED  BLACK  POLANDS. 


44 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


with  the  Dutch  breed,  which,  from  a similar  circumstance,  have  been  styled 
“ Every-day  layers.’’ 

III. — This  variety  of  Polish  fowl  is  the  mcst  pure  and  urimixed  of  the 
three  : it  is,  indeed,  to  all  appearances,  the  uncontaminated  descendant  of  the 
great  fowl  of  St.  Jago.  Its  color  is  a brilliant  white,  with  a jet  black  top- 
knot.  This  variety  was  described  by  Aldrovande,  and  more  recently  by 
Dr.  Bechstein.  I have  never  myself  seen  a specimen  of  the  breed,  and 
have  every  reason  to  suppose  it  to  be  extinct,  or  very  nearly  so.  Applica- 
tions have  been  made  to  several  persons  in  both  Germany  and  Poland,  con- 
nected with  the  poultry  fancy,  for  the  purpose  of  procuring  specimens  of 
these  birds  at  any  cost,  but  the  answers  returned  were,  without  one  excep- 
tion, that  they  were  no  longer  to  be  had. 

VI.  SPANGLED  VARIETIES. 

Gold  and  Silver  Spangled  Ham-  Gold  and  Silver  Dutch, 
burgs.  Gold  Bolton  Bays. 

Dutch  Penciled.  Chittiprats. 

Dutch  Every-day  Layers.  Creoles. 

Bolton  Grays.  Prince  Albert  Fowl. 

Much  confusion  seems  to  exist  with  regard  to  the  spangled  varieties  of  the 
Domestic  Fowl.  The  truth  seems  to  be  that  the  spangled  fowl  have  been 
introduced  without  much  attention  being  paid  to  their  origin,  and  breeders 
have  given  them  the  names  they  thought  most  descriptive  of  their  appear- 
ance and  qualities — and  thus  run  hastily  through  the  description  of  the  span- 
gled varieties,  as  give-n  by  Mr.  Dixon  and  other  writers  ; — in  the  south  of 
England  a variety  exists  called  the  Coral , or  Creole s,  to  which  the  Penciled 
Dutch  of  Dixon  is  the  nearest  approach. 

In  the  neighborhood  of  Keighley,  in  Yorkshire,  and  on  the  borders  of  Lan- 
cashire, the  Bolton  Greys  are  called  “ Chittiprats,”  or  “ Cheteprats,”  and 
prizes  given  to  them  as  handsome,  hardy,  and  excellent  layers.  In  other 
parts  of  the  kingdom  they  are  known  by  the  name  of  “ Moonies.”  The  so- 
called  Prince  Albert’s  breed  are  Bolton  Greys,  said  to  be  crossed  with  game 
blood,  and  not  easily  to  be  distinguished  from  the  Silver  Spangled  Ham- 
burgh. Bolton  Bay  is  another  provincial  term  for  the  Golden  Hamburgh,  as 
Bolton  Grey  is  for  the  Silver. 

It  is  obvious,  from  these  confused  statements,  that  the  various  spangled 
races  of  Domestic  Fowl  have  been  so  intermingled  as  to  render  it  next  to 
impossible  to  discriminate  between  them. 

Dutch  Every-Day  Layers. — Frequently  confounded  with  the  preced- 
ing. Instead  of  being  destitute  of  comb,  and  carrying  in  its  place  a tuft  of 
feathers  on  the  crown,  the  cock  of  this  interesting  variety  possesses  what 
is  called  a rose  comb ; that  is  to  say,  a comb  formed  of  a great  number  of 
folds  of  single  comb,  united  into  one  broad,  serrated,  and  fleshy  mass.  The 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  FOW1. 


*5 


color  of  the  cock  is,  as  usually  occurs,  more  brilliant  than  that  of  the  en. 
His  body  is  of  a fine,  reddish-brown  hue,  with  neck  hackles  of  a bright  and 
rather  deep  golden  yellow.  These  birds  present,  likewise,  two  distinctly- 
marked  varieties,  the  difference,  however,  depending  chiefly  on  color.  When, 
as  I have  described,  the  color  of  the  body  is  a golden  yellow,  streaked  or 
spangled  with  blackish,  or  deep  brown  markings — an  appearance  caused  by 
the  dark  color  of  the  ends  of  the  feathers — the  bird  is  styled  the  “ Golden 
Spangled  ;”  and  when  the  ground  color  is  white  (the  other  circumstances  ol 
shading  remaining  the  same) , the  bird  is  styled  the  “ Silver  Spangled.” 

These  fowl  have  received  the  name  of  “ Every-day  ” or  “Everlasting 
Layers,”  from  the  circumstance  of  their  unwillingness  to  hatch,  in  conse- 
quence of  which  they  lay  an  egg  nearly  all  the  year  through,  and,  if  proper- 
ly cared  for.  and  warmly  housed,  even  amid  the  frost  and  snow  of  the  most 
inclement  winter.  Some  say  that  the  eggs  of  these  fowls  are  not  in  gene- 
ral so  large  as  those  of  ordinary  poultry,  nor  equally  substantial  and  nutri- 
tious. This  might,  indeed,  considered  theoretically,  seem  a very  obvious 
consequence  of  so  unsound  a demand  upon  the  bird’s  natural  resource ; but 
I think  that  there  is  really  no  such  remarkable  difference. 

The  Bolton  Greys. — Tn  general  form  they  resemble  the  Dorking,  except 
that  they  are  longer  in  the  body ; the  color  elegantly  penciled  in  black.  A 
variety  called  Bolton  Bays,  from  that  color,  have  precisely  similar  pencilings 
upon  the  bay  color.  Mowbray,  quoting  the  Rev.  Mr.  Ashworth,  vicar  of 
Tam  worth,  says  of  the  Bolton  Greys  : — “They  are  small  in  size,  short  in 
the  leg,  and  plump  in  the  make ; the  color  of  the  genuine  kind  invariably 
pure  white  in  the  whole  lappel  of  the  neck  ; the  body  white,  thickly  spot- 
ted with  bright  black,  sometimes  running  into  grizzle,  with  one  or  more 
black  bars  at  the  extremity  of  the  tail.  They  are  chiefly  esteemed  as  very 
constant  layers,  though  their  color  would  also  mark  them  for  good  table 
fowl.”  Mowbray  also  calls  them  Corals — why,  does  not  appear,  unless 
they  are  synonymous  with  the  Creole  of  other  parts  of  the  country.  In 
Yorkshire,  the  same  birds  are  called  Chittiprats. 

The  Barbary  Fowl. — Now  naturalized  in  Spain;  the  specimen  that  I 
describe  was  brought  recently  from  that  country.  It  is  very  tall,  remarka- 
bly heavy,  with  not  much  offal,  and  a firm,  muscular  quality  of  flesh.  The 
comb  presents  a most  singular  appearance — viz.,  that  of  two  iarge  and  fleshy 
combs  growing  up  together,  and  enclosing  a smaller  and  apparently  abortive 
comb  between  their  folds.  The  color  is  a prevailing  black  with  some  green 
and  brown  markings  upon  the  wings ; it  is  booted  and  feathered  upon  the 
legs,  like  the  Bantam,  and  thus  clothed  to  the  very  toes;  the  cheek  or  ear- 
piece is  white,  like  the  Spanish  breed.  It  is  a bird  of  vast  body,  and  al 
most  gigantic  proportions,  displaying  great  boldness  of  carriage  and  confi 
dence  of  demeanor. 


DOMESTIC  FOWI.. 


46 


VII.  THE  DORKING  FOWL. 

The  Dorking  would  appear  to  owe  its  name  to  its  having  been  chiefly 
bred  in  a town  of  Surry,  of  the  same  appellation.  That  the  peculiarity  of 
five  toes,  or,  in  other  words,  of  two  hind  toes  instead  of  one,  is  to  be  regard- 
ed as  a distinctive  character  of  the  breed,  is  by  some  writers  questioned,  and 
by  others  wholly  denied.  For  my  part,  I should  say,  that  whenever  this 
characteristic  is  absent,  a cross  has  been  at  work. 


WHITE  DORKINGS. 


I do  not,  however,  mean  to  assert  that  this  possession  of  two  hind  toes 
instead  of  one,  has  never  occurred  in  any  other  family  of  fowl  except  those 
bred  at  Dorking,  in  Surry,  for  Aristotle  has  mentioned  the  existence  of  a si- 
milar peculiarity  among  certain  fowl  in  Greece,  and  both  Columella  and 
Pliny  assert  the  existence  of  such  in  their  time  in  Italy,  so  also  does  Aldro- 
vand ; and  these  authors  lived  hundreds  of  years  ago ; and,  oddly  enough, 
these  breeds  were  remarkable,  as  are  our  own  Dorking,  for  being  good 
layers  and  good  sitters. 

The  color  of  the  Dorking  is  usually  pure  white,  or  spotted  or  spangled  with 
black  ; these  colors  sometimes  merge  into  a grey  or  grizzle.  The  hens  weigh 
f.otn  neven  to  nine  pounds;  stand  low  on  their  legs;  are  round,  plump,  and 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


47 


short  in  the  body;  wide  on  the  breast,  with  abundance  of  white  juicy 
flesh.  The  hens  are  generally  good  layers,  and  their  eggs,  though  smaller 
than  the  egg  of  the  Spanish  and  Polish  breeds,  are  of  good  size  and  well 


COLORED  DORKINGS. 

flavored  These  birds  have  been  long  prized,  and  it  is  now  many  year* 
since  their  superiority  over  our  ordinary  domestic  varieties  was  originally 
discovered  and  appreciated  ; they  were  first  noticed,  and  the  variety  adopt- 
ed, by  the  Cumberland  breeders,  whence  they  were  soon  brought  into  Lan- 
cashire and  Westmoreland,  and  gradually  spread  overall  England.  Whether, 
however,  from  injudicious  treatment,  or  imperfect  feeding,  or  change  ot 
climate,  or  from  whatever  cause,  it  is  certain  that,  when  met  with  far  from 
their  native  place,  they  appear  greatly  to  have  degenerated  from  their  origi- 
nal superiority  of  character.  In  this,  and  all  other  varieties  of  fowl,  fresh 
blood  should  be  introduced  from  time  to  time,  or  the  breed  degenerates. 

VII/.  THE  SUSSEX. 

This  is  but  an  improved  variety  of  Dorking,  similar  in  shape  and  general 
character,  usually  of  a brown  color,  but  possessing  the  advantage  of  wanting 
the  fifth  toe : I say  advantage,  for  the  Dorking  fowl  frequently  becomes 
diseased  in  the  feet,  the  cocks  especially,  in  consequence  of  breaking  the 
supplementary  toe  in  fighting. 


4S 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


IX.  THE  GAME  FOWL. 

The  Game  f owl  is  one  of  the  most  gracefully-formed,  and  most  beautifully- 
colored  of  our  domestic  breeds  of  poultry;  in  its  form  and  aspect,  and  in 
the  extraordinary  courage  which  characterizes  its  natural  disposition,  it 


exhibits  all  that  either  the  naturalist  or  the  sportsman  recognizes  as  th ebeau 
ideal  of  high  blood  ; embodying,  in  short,  all  the  most  indubitable  charac- 
teristics of  gallinaceous  aristocracy. 

We  do  not  possess  any  very  satisfactory  record  of  the  original  country  of 
the  Game  fowl ; but  I am  disposed  to  cede  that  honor  to  India,  the  natives 
of  which  country  have  always  been  remarkable  for  their  love  of  cock- 
fighting  ; and  we  also  know  that  there  still  exists  in  India  an  original  variety 
of  game  cock,  very  similar  to  our  own,  but  inferior  in  point  of  size.  As 
to  the  date  or  occasion  of  their  first  introduction  into  the  British  islands,  we 
know  nothing  certain  ; but  it  is  probable  that  we  owe  it  to  the  invasion  of 
Julius  Caesar,  the  Romans  having  been  very  fond  of  the  sport  of  cock- 
fghting. 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  BOWL. 


49 


The  Game  fowl  is  somewhat  inferior  in  size  to  other  breeds,  and  in  his 
shape  he  approximates  more  closely  to  the  elegance  and  lightness  of  form 
usually  characteristic  of  a pure  and  uncontaminated  race.  Amongst  poultry 
he  is  what  the  Arabian  is  amongst  horses,  the  high-bred  short- horn  amongst 
cattle,  and  the  fleet  greyhound  amongst  the  canine  race. 

The  flesh  of  the  Game  fowl  is  beautifully  white,  as  well  as  tender  and 
delicate  The  hens  are  excellent  layers,  and  although  the  eggs  are  some- 
what ui  der  the  average  size,  they  are  not  to  be  surpassed  in  excellence  of 
flavor.  Such  being  the  character  of  this  variety  of  fowl,  it  would  doubtless 
be  much  more  extensively  cultivated  than  it  is,  were  it  not  for  the  difficulty 
attending  the  rearing  of  the  young,  their  pugnacity  being  such,  that  a brood 
is  scarcely  feathered  before  at  least  one-half  is  killed  or  blinded  by  fighting. 

The  beauty  of  form  and  brilliancy  of  color  displayed  in  the  Game  fowl, 
renders  the  breed  very  desirable ; they  are  of  all  colors,  and  each  variety 
seems  to  have  had  its  patrons,  the  rule  being  to  mate  the  cock  with  hens 
of  the  same  feather.  The  brood  cock  for  purposes  of  battle,  says  this 
authority,  “ should  have  every  feature  of  health ; such  as  a ruddy  com- 
plexion, feathers  elose  and  short,  flesh  firm  and  compact,  breast  full,  yet 
taper,  and  thin  behind,  full  in.  the  girth,  well  coupled,  lofty  and  spiring,  a 
good  well-developed  thigh,  the  beam  of  the  leg  strong,  a large  quick  eye, 
beak  strong  and  crooked.” 

“ In  the  choice  of  your 
hens,”  says  Spetchly,  “ let 
them  be  rightly  plumed  to  the 
cock  ; nor  let  your  choice  fall 
upon  those  that  are  large,  but 
rather  suffer  the  cock  to  make 
up  for  the  deficiency  of  the  hen 
in  size.  In  shape  they  should 
be  similar  to  the  cock,  lofty 
necks,  short  and  close  feathered- 
A true  blood  hen  is  clean  and 
sinewy  in  the  leg,  the  body 
compact  and  well  proportioned, 
a well-set  thigh,  with  long, 
clean,  and  taper  toes.”  Having 
selected  a cock,  place  with  him 
from  four  to  six  hens,  bringing 
them  together  in  November  or 
December.  If  hfeis  young,  the 
hens  may  be  full-grown — if  a 
two  year’s  old,  then  the  hens 
may  be  young  pullets,  supposing 
3 


GAME-COCK. 


so 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


a strong  and  vigorous  breed  is  desired.  Have,  however,  a marked  attention 
how  he  bears  himself  to  all  his  hens,  as  it  frequently  happens  that  one  or 
other  of  them  f^lls  under  his  displeasure,  in  which  case  she  should  be 
removed 


In  selecting  eggs  for  setting  avoid  the  earliest  ones,  as  well  as  the  last ; 
choose  the  best  shaped  eggs  and  mark  them  to  avoid  mistakes,  and  place 
them  under  an  old  game  hen  if  you  can  procure  one,  the  old  being  excellent 
mothers.  Their  place  for  sitting  should  be  private,  and  free  from  all  annoy- 
ance or  intrusion. 

When  hatched,  the  young  should  be  regularly  fed,  and  often,  after  the  first 
day  or  two,  but  in  small  quantities.  Let  their  food  be : — Macerated  eggs, 
boiled  hard ; crumbs  of  white  bread ; lettuce  leaves  and  meadow  ants ; 
maggots  from  grains;  steeped  oats  and  small  wheat , curds,  with  new  milk  ; 
bread,  toasted,  and  steeped  in  chamber-lye. 

The  variety  of  Game  fowl  are  very  numerous,  and  to  the  uninitiated 
their  designations  very  unintelligible.  For  the  purposes  of  combat,  a sport 
now  rarely  followed  by  amateurs,  the  black-reds  have  been  the  favored 
variety.  The  recognized  breeds  are,  according  to  Spetchly : — 


1. 

Black  Reds. 

8. 

Furnaces. 

2. 

Silver  black  breasted  ducks. 

9. 

Pole  cats. 

3. 

Birchen  ducks. 

10. 

Cuckoos. 

4. 

Dark  greys. 

11. 

Gingers. 

6. 

Mealy  greys. 

• 12. 

Red  duns. 

6. 

Blacks. 

13. 

Duns. 

7. 

Spangles. 

14. 

Smoky  duns. 

all  these,”  says  Spetchly,  “ 

good  birds 

may  be  found 

however,  have  been  raised  crosses  innumerable,  and  it  is  the  aim  of  the  fine 
breeders  of  the  present  day  to  have  their  birds  as  much  as  possible  uniform 
in  feather,  blood,  and  constitution.  Piles,”  he  says,  “ have  originated  from 
a variety  of  crosses,  which  have  constituted  many  of  the  shades  of  color ; 
they  are  not,”  he  adds,  “ of  my  selects.” 

BufFon,  and  other  continental  writers,  have  given  this  fowl  the  not  unap- 
propriate title  of  the  “ English  Fowl ;”  and  truly  it  is  in  England  that  th« 
very  best  specimens  of  the  breed  are  to  be  met  with. 

A correspondent  well  acquainted  with  rearing  and  breeding  of  game  fowl, 
says,  “Four  or  five  hens  are  quite  sufficient  to  keep  company  with  one 
game  cock  ; perhaps,  it  is  right  to  observe,  that  as  hens  lay  at  various  seasons 
of  the  year,  there  never  should  be  at  any  one  particular  season  more  than 
eleven  or  thirteen  eggs  collected  for  hatching.  When  this  is  done  the 
chickens  will  prove  to  be  more  spirited  and  resolute.  The  month  of  March 
is  the  best  month  to  bring  forth  game  chickens.  It  is  generally  understood 
that  when  hatched  in  that  month  they  prove  to  be  the  most  hardy  and  con- 
stitutional birds.  In  putting  game  hens  with  a cock  for  breeding,  great  care 
sir  uld  be  taken  to  match  the  feather  as  near  as  possible  You  may  breed 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


51 


from  a cock  until  he  is  four  years  old — that  is,  if  not  previously  ctt  up  by 
fighting  a battle.  One  battle,  or  even  two,  if  easily  won,  will  not  injure  a 
cock  for  breeding ; some  say  it  will,  but  I think  not.  Pullets  should  at  all 
times  be  put  to  aged  cocks,  and  vice  versa , stags  to  aged  hens.  The  greatest 
of  care  should  be  taken  in  gathering  the  eggs,  that  those  of  each  hen  be 
kept  separate,  and  hatched  accordingly. 

We  should  state,  in  conclusion,  that  however  interesting  for  their  beauty 
and  high  courage,  game  fowl  will  be  very  troublesome  in  a poultry  yard  of 
various  breed,  especially  if  any  other  cock  is  kept ; for  although  their  smaller 
size  might  lead  to  the  supposition  that  they  would  not  be  the  aggressors, 
this  would  be  a mistake ; their  indomitable  spirit  leads  them  to  quarrel 
with  every  other  bird,  and  their  activity  and  muscular  strength  render  them 
dangerous  to  the  largest  adversary. 

X.  PHEASANT  FOWL. 

Much  has  been  written  upon  this  bird  and  its  origin,  and  a candid  con- 
sideration of  the  entire  subject,  leads  to  the  conclusion  that  this  is  another 
case  of  intermingling  of  different  varieties.  Certain  it  is,  that  no  established 
instance  exists,  where  a cross  between  the  pheasant  of  the  woods  and  the 
domestic  fowl  have  ever  reached  a second  generation. 

Mr.  Whittaker  of  Beckington,  Somerset,  describes  a breed  of  what  he 
calls  Pheasant  Malay,  which  he  has  kept  for  seven  years.  The  cock  he 
describes  as  a large  sized  bird,  of  a dark  red  color,  with  a small  comb ; but 
the  beauty  of  the  breed  is  with  the  hens,  which  are  of  a pheasant  color  in 
all  parts  of  the  body,  with  a velvety  black  neck,  the  shape  of  both  cock  and 
hen  being  very  good  ; the  neck  in  both,  long  and  high  crested  ; the  legs,  and 
also  the  skin, is  white.  The  hens  have  scarcely  any  comb;  the  cocks  have 
one  extending  only  a little  way  backwards.  The  chickens  of  this  breed 
hatched  in  June,  succeed  better  than  when  hatched  earlier;  that  they  are 
small  at  first,  and  being  scantily  supplied  with  down,  have  a naked  appear- 
ance, and  are  very  susceptible  of  cold,  circumstances  which  lead  him  to  sus- 
pect them  to  be  a recent  introduction,  and  from  some  warmer  climate. 

XI.  THE  BANTAMS. 

The  original  of  the  Bantam  is  the  Bankiva  fowl,  a native  of  Java, 
several  specimens  of  which  are  kept  by  the  Queen  of  England.  These 
are  very  beautiful,  of  a perfectly  white  color,  and  exceedingly  small  size, 
and  they  exhibit  some  peculiar  traits  of  habit  and  disposition  that  we  cannot 
overlook.  Amongst  other  strange  propensities,  the  cocks  are  so  fond  of 
sucking  the  eggs  laid  by  the  hen,  that  they  will  often  drive  her  fiom  the 
nest  in  order  to  obtain  them — nay,  they  have  even  been  known  to  attack 
her,  tear  open  the  ovarium,  and  devour  its  shell-less  contents. 

As  might  be  inferred,  when  such  a propensity  to  devour  the  eggs  exist* 


63 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


WHITE  BANTAMS. 


in  the  male  bird,  the  female  is  a secret  layer.  In  this  respect  these  fowl 
show  their  identity  with  the  original  bird  of  Java — the  Bankiva  cock 
These  birds  are  both  good  layers  and  good  sitters. 

The  fowl  commonly  known  as  the  Bantam,  is  a small,  elegantly-formed, 
and  handsomely-tinted  variety,  evidently  not  remotely  allied  to  the  game 
breed.  This  bird  is  furnished  with  feathers  to  the  toes.  There  is  another 
variety  ordinarily  known  as  Sir  John  Sebright’s  fowl,  which  has  its  legs 


ordinary  bantam. 


SEBRIGHT  BANTAMS. 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


53 


perfectly  naked  to  the  toes,  and  approaches  in  form  more  nearly  to  the  game 
breed.  The  high-bred  cock  of  this  breed  should  have  a rose  comb,  full 
hackles,  a well-feathered  and  well-carried  tail,  a stately,  courageous  de- 
meanor, and  should  not  be  quite  a pound  weight.  The  favorite  color  is  a 
golden  yellow,  the  feathers  edged  with  black,  the  wings  barred  with  purple, 
tail  feathers  and  breast  black.  The  Bantam  possesses  high  courage,  and 
will  fight  with  great  resolution.  The  attitude  of  the  cock  is  singularly 
proud  and  haughty ; his  head  thrown  back  so  as  to  nearly  touch  the  upper 
feathers  of  his  tail.  Pure  birds  of  this  blood  are  very  rare. 

The  Creeper  is  also  a very  small  variety  of  “ Bantam,”  with  short  legs. 

XII.  THE  TURKISH  FOWL 

Is  an  'ther  variety  of  “Bantam,”  having  a whitish  body,  with  black  belly 
and  wings,  the  body  streaked  with  gold  and  silver,  and  the  legs  bluish.  The 
Ifen  is,  as  usual,  of  a less  showy  plumage,  her  color  being  white,  speckled 
here  and  there  with  black,  the  neck  yellowish,  and  tail  of  one  color. 

XIII.  THE  JUMPER. 

In  addition  to  these  diminutive  races,  there  is  another  mentioned  by  Buffon, 
as  being  so  short-legged  that  they  are  compelled  to  progress  by  jumps. 
These  are,  however,  somewhat  larger  than  the  common  Bantam,  and  ap- 
proach more  nearly  in  size  to  the  Dunghill.  They  are  prolific,  as  well  as 
excellent  sitters,  the  hen  having  been  known  to  hatch  two  broods  in  succes- 
sion, without  even  an  intermediate  day  of  rest.  These  dwarf  fowl  were 
described  by  Aldrovand  more  than  two  hundred  years  ago,  and  also,  much 
farther  back,  by  the  celebrated  Roman  naturalist,  Pliny,  under  the  designa- 
tion of  the  Adrian  breed. 

XIV.  THE  RUMPKIN  OR  TAIL-LESS  FOWL. 

This  bird  is  distinguished  by  the  total  absence  of  the  caudal  extremity. 
Some  suppose  it  to  be  a distinct  species  descended  from  the  wild  breed  of 
Ceylon.  Among  the  wild  birds  the  comb  is  not  indented ; it  is  so  with  the 
tame ; and  is,  in  the  latter  case,  frequently  double.  Buffon  supposed  this 
fowl  to  be  a native  of  America,  but  Dixon  declares  him  to  have  been  in  error, 
having  been  misled  by  the  circumstance  of  these  birds  being  domesticated 
very  commonly  in  Virginia.  Others  have  supposed  this  fowl  to  be  a native 
of  Persia,  and  Latham  even  names  it  the  “ Persian  Cock.,r  It  is,  however, 
of  very  little  practical  importance  whence  the  rumpkin  originally  came,  the 
bird  possessing  neither  good  flesh  nor  affording  good  eggs. 

XV.  THE  SILKY  FOWL. 

This  fowl,  remarkable  for  the  silky  texture  of  its  plumage,  is  a native  of 
China,  but  is  likewise  to  be  found  in  Japan  : it  is  nearly  always  of  a white 
or  cream  color.  Some  modern  writers  have  sought  to  establish  for  the  silky 


54 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


fowl  a claim  to  be  consid  ‘red  a distinct  species ; but  their  opinion  is  evidently 
erroneous.  These  fowl  are  good  layers,  but  the  eggs  are  small.  For  any 
practical  purpose  they  are  quite  useless,  and  are  also  carefully  to  be  excluded 
from  the  poultry  yard,  on  account  of  the  rapidity  with  which  a cross  from 
them  lowers  the  value  of  our  common  poultry,  darkening  the  color  of  the 
skin,  and  causing  our  birds  to  deteriorate  both  in  appearance  and  utility. 

XVI.  THE  SIBERIAN  OR  RUSSIAN  FOWL, 

Called  by  some  the  Russian,  and  said  to  be  a native  of  that  country,  is 
distinguished  by  tufts  of  dark-colored  feathers  springing  from  each  jaw, 
others,  longer  and  fuller,  springing  from  the  lower  mandible,  in  the  form  ol 


RUSSIAN  FOWLS. 


a beard.  The  color  varies ; some  are  white,  some  blue  or  black,  and  others 
are  colored  like  the  game  fowl.  The  flesh  of  this  variety  is  white  and  good. 
They  are,  likewise,  good  layers,  are  hardy,  and  easily  fed.  This  fowl  is 
sometimes  colored  like  the  Spangled  Hamburgh — some  gold  and  some  silver 
spangled.  When  thus  colored,  they  are  deemed  valuable. 

XVII.  THE  FRIZZLED  FOWL 

Is  so  called  from  the  crisped  and  frizzled  appearance  of  its  feathers,  ana 
not,  as  some  have  erroneously  asserted,  from  a corruption  of  Friesland,  at  one 
time  improperly  conceived  to  be  its  native  country.  It  is  a native  of  Java, 
and  other  parts  of  Eastern  Asia : it  is  smaller  than  our  common  fowl,  is  very 
susceptible  of  cold,  and  is,  on  that  account,  very  difficult  to  rear.  These 
fowl  are  parti  • ilarly  sensible  of  wet.  the  chickens  especially ; thev  are  verj 


VARIETIES  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


55 


shy  and  wild,  and,  like  the  Rumpkin,  are  objects  for  the  attention  of  the 
showman  rather  than  of  the  poultry  breeder. 

XVIII.  THE  DUTCH  FOWL 

Is  of  a white  or  grey  color,  streaked  or  spangled  with  black,  and  excel- 
lent fowl,  whether  as  layers  or  for  the  table  ; originally  imported  from  Hol- 
land. This  is  called  by  Dixon  the  “ Pencilled  Dutch  Fowl,”  from  its  mark- 
ing. It  is  not  the  same  as  the  birds  I have  already  described  under  the  name 
of  “ Every-day  layers.” 

XIX.  THE  NEGRO  FOWL 

Is  a native  of  Africa,  but  by  no  means  to  be  confounded  with  the  “ Bar- 
bery fowl.”  The  Negro  fowl  is  distinguished  by  having  black  comb,  wattles, 
skin,  bones,  and  feathers.  The  flesh  is,  however,  white  and  tender.  Th's 
bird  is  another  good  specimen  for  the  curious,  but  anything  but  a desirabl » 
inmate  of  the  poultry-yard,  as,  besides  being  ugly  and  unprofitable,  he  hav 
the  objectionable  quality  of  speedily  causing  deterioration  among  poultry. 


XX.  THE  BARN-DOOR  FOWL. 


I describe  these  fowl  separately  ; for,  although  the  designation  of  “ Barn 
door  fowl”  may  be  applicable  also  to  the  Dunghill,  I regard  the  former  ap- 
pellation as  possessing  a far  more  extended  signification. 

The  Barn-door  fowl  embrace,  of  course,  several  sub- varieties.  Few  of  our 
high-priced  breeds,  except  in  some  places  the  Dorking  and  the  Polish,  have, 
as  yet,  become  so  common  as  to  be  included  in  the  list ; but  crosses  of  the 
common  Dunghill  bird  with  the  Malay,  Dorking,  Polish,  or  Spanish,  are  very 
frequently  to  be  met  with. 

Dr.  Bechstein  enumerates  eight  distinct  varieties  of  barn-door  fowl,  viz : — 


1.  The  fowl  with  the  small  comb. 

2.  The  crowned  fowl. 

3.  The  silver-colored  fowl. 

4.  The  slate-blue  fowl. 

5.  The  chamois-colored  fowl. 


6.  The  ermine-like  fowl. 

7.  The  widow  ; with  tear-like  spots 

on  a dark  ground. 

8.  The  fire  and  stone-colored  fowl. 


The  distinction  will  be  perceived  to  consist  almost  solely  in  color ; but  the 
Doctor  has  omitted  another  and  very  ordinary  inmate  of  the  farm-yard — viz., 
the  booted  fowl,  represented  by  the  bantam.  It  will  then  be  seen  that  the 
Barn-door  fowl,  whatever  marks  of  being  an  original  variety  it  may  have 
formerly  exhibited,  is  now  likely  soon  to  lose  all  such  marks  from  the  effect 
of  crossing. 


XXI.  THE  DUNGHILL  FOWL. 

The  Dunghill  fowl  occupies  in  the  poultry-yard  precisely  the  position  of 
the  cur  dog  in  the  kennel,  being,  in  fact,  the  produce  of  a miscellaneous  in- 
ter mixture  of  most  of  the  ordinary  domestic  varieties,  and  constantly  diffei- 
ing  in  its  appearance  with  the  accidents  w’hich  may  have  influenced  its 
parentage 


DOM  IT STIC  FOWL. 


5*1 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  TURKEY. 

THE  WILD  ORIGINAL. 

LiNNiEus  and  others  have  given  the  turkey  the  erroneous  appellation  of 
“Maleagris  gallipavo,”  under  the  strange  impression  that  this  bird  and  the 
Maleagris  of  the  ancients. are  identical — a very  strange  error  indeed,  inas- 
much as  the  descriptions  of  the  Maleagris,  given  by  Athenaeus  and  other 
classic  writers,  refer  with  the  most  minute  accuracy,  to  the  Guinea  fowl; 
and  in  scarcely  any  single  particular  can  be  traced  a resemblance  to  the  tur- 
key. The  mistake  was  first  observed  and  pointed  out  by  the  French 
academicians,  and  is  now  universally  admitted. 

Various  opinions  have  been  promulgated  relative  to  the  original  country  of 
the  turkey,  but  it  is  now  ascertained  beyond  a doubt  to  have  been  America  ; 
and  it  is  in  that  country  alone  that  the  true  original  of  our  domestic  turkey  is 
yet  to  be  met  with  in  all  its  primitive  wildness,  clothed  in  its  natural  pium- 
age,  genuinely  wild  in  all  its  habits,  the  unreclaimed  denizen  of  the  wilder- 
ness. As  to  the  medium  through  which  this  bird  was  first  introduced  into 
Europe  much  doubt  still  exists,  and  we  have,  indeed,  no  authentic  proof  as 
to  either  the  period  of  time,  or  by  what  agency  that  event  took  place ; it  is, 
however,  not  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  the  Spaniards,  after  their  discovery 
of  Mexico,  where  the  turkey  is  known  to  be  indigenous,  brought  specimens 
away  with  them  on  their  return  to  their  own  country;  and  Oviedo, the  ear- 
liest describer  of  this  bird,  speaks  of  it  having  been  domesticated  by  the 
Christian  inhabitants  of  New  Spain  and  the  Spanish  Main.  This  proves  that 
the  turkey  wras  domesticated  by  the  Spaniards  before  the  year  1526,  for  in 
that  year  was  Oviedo’s  “ Natural  History  of  the  Indies”  published  at  Toledo. 
The  discovery  of  Mexico  took  place  in  1518:  and  when  Hernandez  shortly 
afterward  described  the  natural  productions  of  that  country,  he  enumerated 
amongst  them  the  turkey,  distinguishing  also  the  wild  from  the  lame.  In 
1530,  the  turkey  was  introduced  into  England ; but  it  seems  more  probable 
that  we  owe  its  introduction  to  Cabot’s  having  brought  it  direct  from  Amer- 
ica, than  that  we  obtained  it  from  Spain ; for  if  the  latter  were  the  case,  I 
think  it  likely  that  some  record  of  its  transmission  would  remain. 

In  1541,  we  find  turkeys  enumerated  amongst  the  delicacies  of  the  table, 
and  classed  with  the  crane  and  swan;  but  the  bird  was  too  important  an 
addition  to  our  stock  of  domestic  poultry  to  remain  very  long  a rarity.  At- 
tention was  drawn  towards  it, — it  was  bred  extensively  ; and  in  1573,  we 
find  it  mentioned  in  ‘‘Five  Hundred  Points  of  Good  Husbandry  ” as  forming 
the  staple  of  the  farmer’s  ordinary  Christmas  dinner. 

The  origin  of  the  popiiar  name  “Turkey”  appears  to  be  the  confusion 


THE  TURKEY. 


50 

that  at  first  so  unaccountably  subsisted  relative  to  the  identity  of  the  bird 
with  the  Guinea  fowl,  which  is  really  a native  of  that  country,  and  which 
was  introduced  into  England  from  the  Levant,  and  at  the  time  of  the  intro- 
duction of  the  turkey  was  still  scarce.  Some  say  it  arose  from  the  proud 
and  Turkish  stru  - of  the  cock.  An  old  writer  on  agriculture,  named  GQOge, 
(a.d.  1641,)  asserts  that  the  turkey  and  Guinea  fowl  were  unknown  in  Britain 
in  1530  ; but  he  evidently  suffered  himself  to  be  misled  by  a German  author, 
Heresbach,  whose  treatise  seems  to  have  been  the  basis  of  Googe’s  work. 
Hakluyt  (a.d.  1582)  mentions  their  having  been  introduced  “ about  fifty 
years  back.”  In  1555,  two  turkeys  and  four  turkey  poults  formed  part  of 
the  inauguration  dinner  of  the  serjeants-at-law  in  London  : they  cost  only 
four  shillings  each,  while  the  swans  were  rated  at  ten  shillings,  and  capons 
at  half  a crown  : turkeys  could  not,  therefore,  have  been  very  scarce  at 
that  time. — Bug  dale,  Orig.  Jud.  Thus,  the  turkey  would  appear  to  have 
been  introduced  into  England  about  the  year  1530,  aud  we  may  conclude 
that  it  was  brought  into  France  about  the  same  period  ; for,  in  “ Champier's 
Treatise  ou  Diet,”  published  in  1560,  the  turkey  is  described,  and  the  work 
is  said  to  have  been  written  upwards  of  thirty  years  prior  to  its  publication. 
In  this  book,  also,  the  bird  is  said  to  have  been  brought  from  the  “ newly 
discovered  Indian  islands  and  my  readers  are  well  aware  that  the  newly 
discovered  continent  of  America  was  at  first  conjectured  to  be  a portion  of 
India,  or  an  island  belonging  to  it.  In  1556,  twelve  turkeys  formed  the  pre- 
sent offered  to  the  King  of  France  by  the  burgesses  of  Amiens.  Heresbach 
states  that  they  were  introduced  into  Germany  about  1530,  and  a sumptuary 
law  made  at  Venice,  in  1557,  indicates  the  rank  of  those  at  whose  tables 
they  were  permitted  to  be  eaten.  The  turkey  was  then  early  appreciated, 
and  his  value  duly  estimated  ; yet  strange  to  say,  not  a record  remains  to 
lead  us  to  a knowledge  of  the  person  to  whom  the  natives  of  Europe  are  in- 
debted for  so  very  important  a benefit.  The  turkey  has  long  enjoyed  the 
reputation  it  now  holds,  and  has  been  deemed  worthy  of  a place  at  the  mos4 
luxurious  festivals. 

No  one  who  has  seen  only  the  domesticated  inhabitant  of  the  poultry-yarc. 
can  form  any  idea  of  its  wild  original.  The  cock  measures  about  three  feet 
and  a half,  or  nearly  four  feet,-  in  length,  and  almost  six  in  expanse  of  the 
wings.  The  skin  of  the  head  is  of  a bluish  color,  as  is  also  the  upper  part 
of  the  neck,  and  is  marked  writh  numerous  reddish,  warty  elevations  with  a 
few  black  hairs  scattered  here  and  there.  On  the  under  part  of  the  neck 
the  skin  hangs  down  loosely,  and  forms  a sort  of  wattle  ; and  from  the  point 
where  the  bill  commences  and  the  forehead  terminates,  arises  a fleshy  pro- 
tuberance, with  a small  tuft  of  hair  at  the  extremity,  which  becomes  greatly 
elongated  when  the  bird  is  excited  ; and  at  the  lower  part  of  the  neck  is  a 
tuft  of  black  hair,  eight  or  nine  inches  in  length. 

The  feathers  are,  at  the  bas>,  of  a light  dusky  tinge,  succeeded  by  a brilliant 
3* 


58 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


metallic  bafid,  which  changes,  according  to  the  point  whence  the  light  falls 
upon  it,  to  bronze,  copper,  violet,  or  purple ; and  the  tip  is  formed  by  a nar- 
row, black,  velvety  band.  This  last  marking  is  absent  from  the  neck  and 
breast.  The  color  of  the  tail  is  brown,  mottled  with  black,  and  crossed  with 
numerous  lines  of  the  latter  color.  Near  the  tip  is  a broad  black  band,  then 
a short  mottled  portion,  and  then  a broad  band  of  dingy  yellow.  The  wings 
are  white,  banded  closely  with  black,  and  shaded  with  brownish  yellow, 
which  deepens  in  tint  towards  the  back.  The  head  is  very  small  in  propor- 
tion to  the  size  of  the  body;  the  legs  and  feet  are  strongly  made,  and  fur- 
nished witl.  blunt  spurs  about  an  inch  long,  and  of  a dusky  reddish  color ; 
the  bill  is  reddish,  and  horn-colored  at  the  tip. 

The  hen  is  less  in  size  than  the  cock  ; her  legs  are  destitute  of  spurs ; her 
neck  and  head  are  less  naked,  being  furnished  with  short,  dirty,  gray  feathers . 
the  feathers  on  the  back  of  the  neck  have  brownish  tips,  producing,  on  that 
part,  a brown,  longitudinal  band.  She  also  frequently,  but  not  invariably, 
wants  the  tuft  of  feathers  on  the  breast.  Her  prevailing  color  is  a dusky 
grey,  each  feather  having  a metallic  band,  less  brilliant  than  that  of  the 
cock  ; then  a blackish  band  and  a greyish  fringe.  Her  whole  color  is,  as 
usual  among  birds,  duller  than  that  of  the  cock  ; the  wing  feathers  display 
less  white,  and  have  no  bands : the  tail  is  similarly  colored  to  that  of  the 
cock.  When  young,  the  sexes  are  so  much  alike,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  discern 
the  difference  between  them ; and  the  cock  acquires  his  beauty  only  by 
degrees,  his  plumage  not  arriving  at  perfection  until  the  fourth  or  fifth  year. 

The  wild  turkey  was  form- 
erly found  in  Canada,  and  in 
several  districts  of  the  United 
States,  but  has  been  gradually 
driven  backwards  as  popula- 
tion increased.  It  is  now 
chiefly  to  be  found  in  the 
wilder  regions  of  Virginia, 
Kentucky,  Ohio,  Illinois,  and 
Indiana.  The  wild  turkey  is, 
to  a certain  extent,  migratory 
in  its  habits ; and  about  the 
latter  end  of  autumn  large 
flocks  assemble,  and  gradual ly 
desert  their  barren  wilds  for 
richer  plains.  The  cocks  as- 
sociate in  parties  by  them- 
selves, and  seek  for  food  apart 
from  the  hens.  The  latter 
remain  with  the  poults,  which  they  take  care  to  keep  away  from  the  cock, 
who  is  very  apt  to  attack  and  destroy  them. 


THE  TURKEY. 


59 


Flocks  leaving  the  same  district  all  move  forward  in  the  same  direction. 
They  very  seldom  take  wing  unless  to  escape  an  enemy,  or  to  cross  a river, 
which  latter  feat  they  do  not  perform  without  great  deliberation,  and  a great 
deal  of  noisy  “gabbling.”  The  old  and  strong  birds  will  fly  in  safety  across 
a river  upwards  of  a mile  in  breadth  ; the  young  and  weakly  often  fall  in, 
unequal  to  the  effort ; but  nevertheless  usually  manage  to  attain  the  shore 
by  swimming.  On  reaching  the  opposite  bank,  the  flock  will  generally  strut 
about  for  a length  of  time,  as  if  bewildered,  and  may,  during  this  interval,  be 
readily  taken.  On  arriving  at  the  desired  district,  they  disperse  in  smaller 
flocks,  composed  indiscriminately  of  cocks,  hens,  and  poults.  Their  food 
consists  of  beech-mast,  maize,  a fruit  called  the  peccan  nut,  and  acorns. 
They  will  also  devour  such  beetles,  grasshoppers,  young  frogs,  small  lizards, 
&c.,  as  fall  in  their  way.  This  is  about  the  month  of  November,  at  which 
season  they  often  incautiously  venture  too  near  farm-yards  and  barns,  where 
great  numbers  are  killed,  and  form  a valuable  article  of  traffic  to  the  settler 

.Early  in  March  the  hens  separate  again  from  the  herd,  roost  apart,  and 
carefully  shun  the  cock.  They  still,  how-ever,  remain  near  him  ; and  when 
a hen  utters  her  call,  every  cock  within  hearing  responds  with  his  “ gobble,” 
“gobble,”*  “gobble.”  This  noisy  wooing  generally  continues  for  about  an 
hour  before  sunrise,  after  which  the  birds  silently  alight  from  their  perches, 
and  the  cocks  strut  about  with  expanded  tails,  seeking  to  obtain  the  favor  of 
their  desired  mates.  They  sometimes,  while  thus  employed,  encounter  each 
other,  in  which  case  desperate  conflicts  take  place,  terminated  only  by  the 
death  or  flight  of  the  vanquished. 

After  pairing,  the  birds  remain  together  for  the  season,  until  laying  begins, 
when  the  hen  is  again  compelled  to  seclude  herself,  as  the  cock  would  other- 
wise destroy  the  eggs.  About  the  middle  of  April  the  hen  forms  her  nest 
of  a few  dry  leaves,  on  the  ground,  in  some  sheltered  spot,  where  it  will  be 
concealed  from  every  hostile  eye ; here  she  deposits  her  eggs,  to  the  numbei 
of  from  ten  to  twenty.  They  resemble,  in  size  and  color,  those  of  the 
domestic  bird.  Whenever  she  leaves  the  nest,  she  covers  it  up  with  leaves, 
so  as  to  secure  it  from  observation.  She  is  a very  close  sitter,  and  will,  also, 
when  she  has  chosen  a spot,  seldom  leave  it  on  account  of  its  being  discovered 
by  a human  intruder.  Should  she  find  one  of  her  eggs,  however,  sucked  by 
a snake,  or  other  enemy,  she  abandons  the  nest  for  ever.  When  the  eggs 
are  near  hatching,  the  hen  will  not  forsake  her  nest  while  life  remains. 

The  young  are  very  sensible  to  the  effects  of  damp ; hence,  after  a rainy 
season,  wild  turkeys  are  always  scarce.  The  flesh  of  the  wild  turkey  is 
very  superior  to  that  of  the  domestic  bird ; yet  that  of  such  of  the  latter  as 
have  been  suffered  to  roam  at  large  in  the  woods  and  plains  is  in  no  respect 
improved  by  this  partially  wild  mode  of  life.  The  wild  bird  is  frequently 
domesticated  in  America ; but  I understand  that  these  individuals  are  not 
very  steady,  and  will,  on  the  first  opportunity,  return  to  their  native  haunta 


GO 


DOMESTIC'  **  WL. 


C.  Lucien  Bonaparte  relates  that  a gentleman  in  West  Chester  County,  New 
York,  once  procured  x young  female  wild  turkey,  in  order  to  try  the  experi- 
ment of  crossing  the  breed  with  the  domestic  bird  ; but  owing  to  some  acci- 
dent it  did  not  succeed,  and  in  the  ensuing  spring  the  hen  disappeared.  She 
refurned,  however,  in  the  autumn,  followed  by  a large  brood,  and  remained 
on  the  farm  till  the  following  spring,  when  she  again  disappeared,  but  re- 
turned in  autumn  with  a second  brood ; and  this  she  continued  to  do  for 
several  years. 

When  the  eggs  of  the  wild  turkey  are  hatched  under  a tame  hen,  the 
poults  preserve  the  wild  manners  of  their  race,  and  roost  apart  from  the  rest. 
These  are  often  used  as  decoy  birds,  for  the  purpose  of  securing  the  wild 
ones.  The  wild  turkey  is  found  to  thrive  better,  and  fatten  sooner,  on  a 
given  quantity  of  food,  than  the  tame  ; and  it  is  well  known  that  the  cross 
between  the  two  is  a greatly  improved  breed  as  to  flesh  and  capability  of 
taking  fat.  Some  writers  have  greatly  exaggerated  the  weight  of  the  wild 
turkey;  and  some  have  even  asserted  that  they  have  met  with  individuals 
of  sixty  pounds  weight.  M.  Bonaparte  states  the  average  weight  of  the  hen 
to  be  from  eight  to  nine  pounds,  and  that  of  the  cock  from  fifteen  to  twenty. 
A knowledge  of  the  natural  habits  of  the  bird  is  of  the  greatest  importance 
in  guiding  us  as  to  its  treatment  in  a state  of  domestication  ; and  we,  accord- 
ingly, should  avoid  condemning  to  the  confinement  of  close,  and  often  filthy 
hen-houses,  a bird  which,  in  a state  of  nature,  always  perches  in  the  open 
air.  Open  sheds  and  high  perches  are  what  they  require ; and  their  dislike 
to  the  mode  of  housing  I speak  of  may  be  recognized  in  the  eagerness  with 
which  they  rush  out  the  instant  tbe  door  is  opened  in  the  morning.  The 
domestic  turkey  has  been  known  to  go  wild  and  remain  so  for  two  or  more 
years ; and  there  is  no  doubt  that  it  would  be  possible  to  naturalize  them 
like  the  pheasant. 

Domestication  has,  in  the  case  of  the  Turkey,  as  in  that  of  most  reclaimed 
animals,  produced  a diversity  of  color,  which  by  cultivation,  whether  owing 
to  fancy  or  some  supposed  inherent  excellence  residing  in  the  various  tints, 
has  now  furnished  us  with  several  so-called  varieties  or  breeds,  still  however, 
with  one  exception  (the  Norfolk) , only  differing  in  the  prevailing  hue  of 
their  plumage : thus  we  have  the  black,  the  white,  the  copper  color,  the 
brown,  the  bronze,  and  the  dusky-grey.  They  are  however,  of  course,  all 
the  descendants  of  their  great  American  original,  of  which  but  one  really 
exists,  although  F.  Cuvier  has  described  (1820)  a second  species  found  at 
Honduras.  There  is  a question  whether  this  actually  be  a second  and  dis- 
tinct species,  however,  or  merely  a variety  of  the  wild  bird,  owing  its  diver- 
sity of  aspect  to  circumstances  dependent  on  locality,  and  consequent  change 
of  habit,  combined  with  difference  of  climate  and  other  important  causes, 
which  we  know,  in  the  case  of  other  animals,  produce  such  remarkable 
effects. 


THE  TURKEY. 


<1 


THE  DOMESTIC  TURKEY. 


As  to  the  relative  value  of  the  ordinary  varieties,  it  would  be  almost 
difficult  to  offer  an  opinion  ; but  those  who  suppose  the  white  turkey  to  be 
u the  most  robust  and  most  easily  fattened”  are  decidedly  mistaken,  both  in 
theory,  as  far  as  analogy  may  guide  us,  and  in  practice,  where  the  certain 
test  of  experience  has  shown  to  the  contrary.  The  bronze  and  copper- 
colored  varieties  are  generally  undersized,  and  are  amongst  the  most  difficult 
of  all  to  rear;  but  their  flesh  is  certainly  very  delicate,  artid  perhaps  more  so 
than  that  of  other  kinds — a circumstance,  however,  that  may  partly  result 
from  their  far  greater  delicacy  of  constitution,  and  the  consequent  extra 
trouble  devoted  to  their  management. 


62 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


The  brown  and  ashy -grey  are  not  particularly  remarkable  ; but  the  black 
are  decidedly  superior  in  every  respect,  not  only  as  regards  greater  hardiness, 
and  a consequent  greater  facility  of  rearing,  but  as  acquiring  flesh  more 
readily,  and  that  being  of  the  \ ery  best  and  primest  quality.  Those  of  this 
color  appear  to  be  less  fai  removed  than  the  others  from  the  original  wild 
stock.  Fortunately,  too,  the  black  seems  to  be  the  favorite  color  of  nature, 
and  black  turkeys  are  produced  far  more  abundantly  than  those  of  any  other 
hue.  M.  Parmentier  was  informed  by  a French  lady,  who  had  devoted 
much  of  her  attention  to  rural  affairs,  that  she  had  in  her  yard  ten  black 
turkey  hens  and  a white  cock,  and  yet,  that  not  one  of  the  chicks  was  white, 
or  even  light-colored.  Turkeys  will  sometimes  change  their  hue.  Mow- 
bray states  that  “ A turkey  cock,  which  was  black  in  the  year  1821,  became 
afterwards  perfectly  white,  this  extraordinary  change  taking  place  so  gradu- 
ally, that  in  the  middle  of  the  moulting  the  bird  was  beautifully  mottled,  the 
feathers  being  black  and  white  alternately.” 

With  respect  to  the  best  mode  of  keeping  turkeys,  I have  merely  to  repeat 
what  I have  already  remarked  relative  to  a due  attention  to  the  habits  of  the 
original  wild  breed  in  ite  native  state.  Let  them  have  a large,  roomy,  open 
shed,  sufficiently  protected,  of  course,  from  the  weather,  and,  above  all,  from 
moisture.  Let  the  perches  be  high — and  here,  again,  you  will  do  well  not 
to  omit  the  use  of  the  hen  ladder ; for,  although  thpse  birds  can  usually  fly 
well,  still,  when  fat,  they  become  too  heavy  for  their  wings,  and  are  apt  to 
injure  themselves  in  their  descent  from  a lofty  perch,  especially  when  in 
confinement : when  at  full  liberty  they  can  take  better  care  of  themselves. 
During  warm  weather  they  may  be  permitted  to  select  their  own  roosting- 
places  on  the  trees  about  a farm ; but  should  be  well  watched,  lest  they 
stray  away ; and  this  indulgence  should  on  no  account  be  granted  them  if 
frost  be  anticipated,  as  their  toes  are  tender  and  apt  to  become  frost-bitten. 
Indeed  summer  is  the  only  time  of  the  year  when  this  out-roosting  may, 
with  safety,  be  permitted. 

The  turkey  is  a profitable  bird,  for  it  can  almost  wholly  provide  for  itself 
about  the  roads  and  hedge-rows : snails,  slugs,  and  worms  are  among  the 
number  of  its  dainties,  and  the  nearest  stream  serves  to  slake  its  thirst.  To 
the  farmer,  however,  it  is  often  a perfect  nuisance,  from  its  love  of  grain  ; 
and  should,  therefore,  be  kept  in  the  yard  until  all  grain  is  too  strong  in  the 
root  to  present  any  temptations. 

Notwithstanding  the  separation  which,  with  the  exception  of  certain  sea- 
sons, subsists,  in  a wild  state,  between  the  cock  and  hen  turkey,  they  have 
been  brought  to  feed  and  live  amicably  together  in  a state  of  domesticity. 
The  former,  however,  retains  sufficient  of  his  hereditary  propensities  to  give 
an  occasional  sly  blow  to  a chick,  or  forward  poult,  but  that  very  seldom  of 
a seriously  malicious  character. 

Mascal’i,  in  describing  a turkev  cock  (such  as  the  breeder  should  selects 


THE  TURKEY. 


63 


pays,  that  he  should  be  a “a  bird  large, stout,  proud,  and  majestical ; for  when 
he  walketh  dejected,  1 e is  never  good.” 

M.  Parmentier  says  that  both  cock  and  hen  should  have  short  legs,  full 
shapes,  and  general  vivacity  and  energy  in  all  their  movements ; likewise, 
that  they  should  be  both  well  shaped  and  in  healthy  condition. 

Mascall  says,  that  the  cock  should  not  be  “ passing  a yere  or  two  yeres 
>ld  : three  yeres  is  the  most,  and  too  much.” 

For  my  own  part,  I hold  a turkey  cock,  at  the  age  of  three  years,  to  be 
»nly  in  his  prime,  and  to  continue,  in  every  respect,  suitable  for  your  purpose 
uitil  five.  The  hen  is  at  her  prime  younger,  and,  probably,  at  the  second 
fear  is  as  good  as  ever  she  will  be  afterwards. 

It  has  been  stated  by  some,  and  yet  as  positively  denied  by  others,  that 
one  fecundation  will  render  all  the  eggs  of  that  laying  fertile  ; still,  however, 
were  it  my  own  case,  I should  prefer  making  “ assurance  doubly  sure,”  by 
allowing  one  cock  to  every  dozen  or  fourteen  hens. 

The  approach  of  the  laying  season  is  easily  known  by  the  increased  live- 
liness and  proud  strut  of  the  hen ; and  she  likewise  further  expresses  her 
feelings  by  a peculiar  self-satisfied  cry,  that  soon  becomes  familiar  to  the 
observer.  This  usually  takes  place  in  the  month  of  March  (nearly  a month 
earlier  tnan  with  the  wild  bird) . When  the  breeder  perceives  these  symp- 
toms, he  should  provide  a nest,  and  put  an  egg,  or  a bit  of  chalk  formed  like 
one,  into  it,  to  induce  the  hen  to  commence  laying  there.  Partaking  of  the 
retiring  propensities  of  the  wild  hen  (although  she  has  not  equal  reason  to 
dread  the  destructive  passions  of  the  cock),  the  turkey  is  a secret  layer,  and 
does  her  best  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  her  keeper  and  steal  away  to  some 
secluded  spot.  The  peculiar  note  of  which  I have  spoken,  betrays,  however, 
the  fact ; and  whoever  has  the  care  of  the  fowl,  should  trace  her  to  her  re- 
tirement, and  bring  her  back  to  the  nest  prepared  for  her. 

The  time  when  the  hen  turkey  lays  is  usually  morning.  Some  lay  daily  ; 
others  only  every  second  day.  The  number  of  eggs  laid  is  commonly  from 
fifteen  to  twenty  ; but  this  varies  with  the  age  of  the  bird,  a hen  of  mature 
age  laying  more  and  larger  eggs  than  one  of  a year  old.  When  the  turkeys 
are  to  be  let  out  in  the  morning,  you  may  examine  the  hens,  and  keep  in 
such  as  are  about  to  lay.  This  precaution  will,  of  course,  prevent  the  loss 
of  a single  egg.  When  the  hen  is  laying,  the  cock  should  be  kept  from  her, 
as  he  would  ill-treat  her  and  break  the  eggs.  The  eggs  should  be  taken 
away  as  soon  as  laid,  lest  they  might  be  broken  through  the  awkwardness 
of  the  hen,  or  sucked  by  vermin.  They  will  keep  till  the  hens  are  done 
laying,  if  put  in  a basket  and  hung  up  in  a dry  place.  It  is  unnecessary  to 
keep  the  eggs  belonging  to  each  in  a separate  place.  The  hen  turkey  is  not 
troubled  with  any  very  exclusive  feelings,  or,  rather,  her  disposition  over- 
flows with  an  excess  of  maternal  love  : for  she  will  rear  a brood  belonging 
to  another  quite  as  carefully  as  if  they  were  her  owr.  In  the  second  laying, 


84 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


the  eggs  are  fewer  in  number,  seldom  exceeding  from  ten  to  thirteen ; and 
on  this  occasion  extra  care  is  requisite. 

The  sooner  that  one  hen  is  turned  away  from  her  brood,  and  the  brood 
mixed  up  with  that  of  another,  hatched  about  the  same  time,  the  better 
chance  there  is  of  rearing  it,  as  the  hen  which  is  so  turned  away,  will  lay 
again  in  a fortnight  or  three  weeks,  and  thus  hatch  a second  time  before  the 
month  of  July  is  out.  Even  under  these  circumstances,  the  chance  of  rear- 
ing the  young  ones  is  very  uncertain,  as  they  are  hardly  strong  enough  to 
meet  the  cold  nights  in  autumn,  when  they  often  become  what  is  called  club- 
footed, and  die.  I rather  recommend  letting  the  hen  lay  as  many  eggs  as  she 
will,  and  turning  her  off  when  she  becomes  broody.  Hens  thus  treated  will 
lay  again  in  the  month  of  August ; so  that,  under  all  circumstances,  they 
may  be  called  profitable  birds. 

The  turkey  hen  is  a most  persevering  sitter  ; and  when  her  eggs  are  taken 
away,  she  would  sit  upon  stones,  if  she  could  not  procure  the  eggs  of  another 
bird,  and  w\  Id  perish  before  quitting  the  nest.  Eggs  should  therefore,  be 
left  with  hei,  not  only  to  tranquillize  her,  but  because  sitting  upon  eggs  fa- 
tigues her  less  than  sitting  upon  an  empty  nest ; but  these  eggs  must  be  mark- 
ed in  order  to  distinguish  them  from  those  the  poor  bird  continues  to  lay  ; for 
any  eggs  that  seem  to  her  to  be  slow  of  hatching,  will  be  abandoned,  as  she 
will  quit  the  nest  as  soon  as  she  perceives  the  chick : consequently,  as  soon  as 
the  eggs  you  have  placed  under  her  are  hatched,  she  will  leave  the  nest,  and 
the  eggs  of  her  own  laying  will  be  sacrificed.  Remove,  therefore,  the  for- 
mer ; and  it  is  for  this  reason  that  I recommend  them  to  be  marked.  Keep 
the  nest  clean  while  the  turkey  hen  is  sitting,  as  dirt  will  injure  the  eggs. 
No  one  should  go  near  a hen  when  sitting,  except  her  keeper;  and  no  one 
should  turn  the  eggs,  or  meddle  w’ith  them  further  than  I have  already  indi- 
cated. The  bird  will  turn  her  eggs  w’ith  more  judgment  than  you  can  do. 

On  the  thirty-first  day  of  sitting,  the  chicks  leave  the  eggs ; but  as  some 
quit  their  prison  before  others,  they  must  be  placed  in  a basket  filled  with 
feathers,  and  if  the  w’eather  be  cold,  placed  in  some  wrarm  spot.  When  all 
are  out,  they  may  be  given  to  the  hen,  for  six  or  eight  hours  before  feeding, 
Sometimes  the  chick  will  require  assistance  in  leaving  the  egg;  and,  if  so, 
the  same  caution  must  be  observed  that  I have  insisted  upon  in  the  case 
of  the  common  fow'l.  Be  very  sparing  of  your  aid,  or  ~ou  may  do  far  more 
harm  than  good. 

Many  writers  recommend  a vast  deal  of  quackery  in  the  treatment  of  the 
young  chicks.  Some  go  the  length  of  ordering  them  wine,  pepper,  bathing 
in  cold  w’ater  ! &c.  It  is  far  better  to  let  them  alone.  For  a few  hours  after 
hatching,  the  chicks  require  no  food  at  all ; and  then,  instead  of  cramming 
them — a process  in  which  you  are  likely  to  break  the  tender  beak  of  the 
little  chick — chop  up  a few  hard  eggs  withhold  nettles,  parsley,  and  a little 
bread  or  curd  ; make  this  into  a paste,  and  present  it  to  the  birds  in  the  palm 
of  your  hand,  or  place  it  before  them  on  a stone,  laking  care  that  the  hen  does 


THE  TURKEY 


65 


• 

not  rob  them.  In  supplying  them  with  water,  be  careful  to  put  it  in  such 
very  shallow  vessels  that  they  cannot  wet  themselves;  for  the  least  moisture 
appears  fatal  to  them.  As  the  turkey  chick  does  not  seek  its  food  immedi- 
ately on  leaving  the  egg,  as  the  hen  seems  incapable  of  instructing  her  little 
offspring  how  to  do  so,  it  is  a practice  with  some  to  put  a few  common  hen’s 
eggs  among  the  turkey’s  (which  must  be  done  about  nine  or  ten  days  after 
sitting) , that  these,  coming  out  with  the  little  turkeys,  may,  by  force  of  ex- 
ample, teach  them  to  provide  for  themselves. 

Unless  in  very  warm  weather  the  hen  and  chicks  should  be  housed  for  a 
month.  If  they  appear  drooping,  put  powdered  caraway  seed,  and  a little 
Cayenne  pepper  into  the  food.  If  you  mix  the  food  with  milk,  let  it  be 
previously  boiled.  Unboiled  milk  will  purge  the  chicks  ; but,  for  my  own 
part,  I prefer  pure  water. 

At  the  age  of  about  two  months  occurs  the  most  critical  period  in  the  life 
of  a turkey,  called  “ shooting  the  red or  the  time  when  the  head  and  neck 
acquire  the  reddish  color  of  the  adult.  This  crisis  once  past,  the  birds  may 
be  regarded  as  past  danger,  and  exchange  the  name  of  chicks  for  that  of 
turkey  poults.  The  only  treatment  necessary  when  the  bird  is  shooting  the 
red  is  to  furnish  nutritive  food,  with  the  addition  of  a small  pinch  of  Cayenne 
pepper.  Bruised  hempseed  is  also  found  serviceable. 

I know  no  birds  better  calculated  to  be  profitable  to  the  breeder,  than  tur- 
keys. They  will  almost  wholly  provide  themselves  with  food ; and  it  is 
only  the  young  chicks  that  require  nourishment  at  our  hands ; and  how  in- 
expensive, also,  is  this  nourishment ! With  care  you  may  rear  two  broods 
in  a year,  and  have  from  eight  to  fifteen  survivors  in  each.  Take  the  aver- 
age at  ten,  and,  suppose  you  have  three  hens,  you  may  bring  up  thirty  chicks. 
Your  hens  will  cost  you  nothing  for  keep;  and  you  must  admit  that  your 
profit  is  handsome.  This  is,  however,  far  below  the  mark.  There  is  no- 
thing to  prevent  an  individual  having  more  hens,  rearing  larger  broods. 

Cobbett,  a shrewd  and  accurate  observer,  thus  wTrites — •“  As  to  the  feeding 
of  them  when  young,  many  nice  things  are  recommended — hard  eggs, 
chopped  fine,  with  crumbs  of  bread,  and  a great  many  other  things  ; but  that 
which  I have  seen  used,  and  always  with  success,  and  for  all  sorts  of  young 
poultry,  is  milk  turned  into  curds.  This  is  the  food  for  young  poultry  of  all 
sorts.  Some  should  be  made  fresh  every  day ; and  if  this  be  done,  and  the 
turkeys  be  kept  warm,  not  one  out  of  a score  will  die.  When  they  get  to 
be  strong  they  may  have  meal  and  grain  ; but  still,  they  always  love  the 
curds.  When  they  get  their  head  feathers,  they  are  hardy  enough ;'  and 
what  they  then  want  is  room  to  prowl  about.  It  is  best  to  breed  them  un- 
der a common  hen,  because  she  does  not  ramble  like  a hen  turkey ; and  it  is 
a very  curious  thing  that  the  turkeys  bred  up  by  a hen  of  the  common  fowl 
do  not  themselves  ramble  much  when  they  get  old. 

“ The  hen  should  be  fed  exceedingly  well,  too,  while  she  is  sitting,  and 


66 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


after  she  has  hatched  ; for  no  man  ever  saw  healthy  chickens  with  a poor 
hen.  This  is  a matter  much  too  little  thought  of  in  the  rearing  of  poultry , 
but  it  is  a matter  of  the  greatest  consequence.  Never  let  a poor  hen  sit ; 
feed  the  hen  while  she  is  sitting,  and  feed  her  most  abundantly  while  she 
has  young  ones,  for  then  her  labor  is  very  great.  She  is  making  exertions 
of  some  sort  or  other  during  the  u hole  twenty-four  hours  ; she  has  no  rest ; 
is  constantly  doing  something,  in  order  to  provide  food  or  safety  for  her  young 
ones.  As  to  fattening  turkeys,  the  best  way  is  never  to  let  them  be  poor. 
Cramming  is  a nasty  thing,  and  quite  unnecessary.  Meal  mixed  with  skim- 
milk,  given  to  them  fresh,  will  make  them  fat  in  a short  time,  either  in  a 
coop,  in  a house,  or  running  about.  Boiled  carrots  and  Swedish  turnips  wiil 
help,  and  it  is  a change  of  sweet  food.” 

As  observed  already,  once  the  turkey  chicks  shoot  the  red  (which  takes 
place  at  or  about  eight  weeks  old) , they  may  be  considered  out  of  danger ; 
hence,  many  persons  consider  it  more  profitable  to  buy  lean  young  poults, 
after  they  have  got  the  red,  and  then  fatten  them  for  market,  to  breeding 
them.  If  the  mortality  among  the  chicks  were  greater,  and  were  not  so 
easily  to  be  avoided  by  a very  little  care,  this  might  be  the  preferable  mode 
of  going  about  the  matter ; but  as  it  is,  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  greater 
advantage  to  be  derived  from  rearing  your  own  chicks. 

In  feeding  the  poults,  after  the  second  month,  it  will  suffice  to  give  them 
such  boiled  common  plants  and  herbs  as  are  of  a nutritive  character — nettles, 
wild  succory,  milfoil,  turnip  tops,  cabbage  sprouts,  or  the  outside  leaves  of 
greens  well  boiled  down — with  these,  potato  skins  and  an  odd  potato  or  two 
itself  may  be  given,  and  acorns,  if  they  can  be  had  without  expense.  The 
meal  of  buckwheat,  barley,  beans,  oats,  according  to  whichever  is  most 
plenty  with  you,  will,  when  incorporated  as  I have  described  with  potatoes, 
fatten  the  poults  with  great  rapidity.  But,  you  may  also  use  the  meal  of 
Indian  corn  with  the  greatest  advantage,  though  it  requires  treble  the  boiling 
of  oatmeal.  If  you  desire  to  meet  the  market  hastily,  and  with  profit,  you 
will  be  compelled  to  resort  to  more  expensive  feeding  than  otherwise,  but 
you  will  be  repaid  by  the  result.  When  the  poults  are  about  five  months 
old,  or  earlier,  if  it  be  late  in  the  season  and  cold  weather  seems  at  hand, 
give  them  boiled  potatoes  mashed  with  meal,  and  then  chopped  small,  as  I 
have  described.  Let  this  be  given  fresh,  and  the  vessel  in  which  they  are 
fed  well  washed  daily,  as  otherwise  it  wTill  speedily  contract  a sour  smell 
and  become  repulsive  to  the  birds,  for  turkeys  are  both  cleanly  and  nice  in 
their  appetite.  After  having  persevered  in  this  feeding,  morning  and  evening, 
for  about  a month,  during  which  time  the  exercise  of  the  poults  should  be 
greatly  curtailed,  and  they  should  likewise  be  kept  much  of  their  time 
(especially  after  meals)  in  the  dark,  they  will  be  found  fit  for  use,  and,  if  of 
a good  kind,  at  least  eighteen  pounds  weight. 

As  damp  or  cold  is  fatal  to  turkey  poults,  so  is  intense  sunshine.  Poults 


THE  TURKEY'. 


67 


should  not  be  suffeied  to  stray  too  far;  for,  independently  of  the  risk  they 
incur,  in  case  of  sudden  shower,  it  must  be  remembered  that  they  are  as  yet 
incapable  of  encountering  any  great  fatigue,  and  that  their  condition  will  be 
anything  but  benefited  thereby.  Mr.  Dixon  recommends  a mode  of  diet 
that  I have  never  seen  tried  : — “ No  food  makes  their  flesh  whiter  and  more 
delicate  than  kitchen  stuff,  or  the  dregs  of  melted  tallow,  more  or  less  oi 
which  must  be  boiled  according  to  the  number  that  is  to  be  fed  ; and  being 
diluted  in  a boiling  kettle,  plants  (and  especially  nettles  chopped  up)  and  pot- 
herbs are  mixed  with  it.  The  whole  being  well  boiled,  barley-meal  or  corn 
is  added  to  form  a kind  of  paste,  which  may  be  given  twice  a day  at  least — 
in  the  morning  and  at  one  o’clock — when  it  is  wished  to  render  them  fat. 
But  as  the  dregs  of  melted  tallow  are  not  everywhere  to  be  procured,  the 
dregs  or  refuse  of  the  oil  of  nuts,  linseed,  or  sweet  almonds,  may  be  substi- 
tuted, the  greatest  care  being  taken  not  to  fatten  them  wholly  with  such 
oily  substances,  for  their  flesh  would  partake  of  the  flavor  and  be  injured.” 

From  what  we  know  of  the  value  of  oil-cake  in  the  fattening  of  our  cat- 
tle, I have  no  doubt  of  its  efficacy  in  fattening  turkeys,  but  it  certainly  ren- 
ders the  flesh  rank  and  oily.  In  reckoning  the  advantages  with  the  expense 
attendant  on  the  rearing  of  these  birds,  until  you  want  to  fatten  them  for 
sale  or  your  own  consumption,  you  need  be  at  no  pains  relative  to  their  food, 
as  they  are  quite  able  to  provide  for  themselves,  being  in  this  respect  su- 
perior to  any  other  of  our  domestic  fowl.  In  thus  readily  providing  for 
themselves,  they  are  also  greatly  assisted  by  the  easy  character  of  their  ap- 
petite— grass,  herbs,  corn,  berries,  fruit,  insects,  and  reptiles ; in  short,  hardly 
anything  coming  amiss  to  them. 

Audubon  says,  that  in  their  native  forests  “they  cannot  be  said  to  con- 
fine themselves  to  any  particular  kind  of  food,  although  they  seem  to  prefer 
the  peccan  nut  and  winter  grape  to  any  other ; and  where  these  foods 
abound,  are  found  in  the  greatest  numbers.  They  eat  grass  and  herbs  of 
various  kinds — corn,  berries,  and  fruits  of  all  descriptions.  I have  even 
found  beetles,  tadpoles,  and  small  lizards  in  their  crops.” — Ornith.  Biog.  1.  ii. 
A favorite  repast  of  this  bird  in  its  native  forests  is  said  also  to  be  the  seed 
of  a kind  of  nettle,  and  at  another  season  a small  red  acorn,  on  which  latter 
food  they  soon  become  so  fat  that  they  cannot  fly,  and  are  easily  run  down 
by  dogs. 

They  are  dull  and  stupid  at  getting  the  corn  out  of  the  ear,  unless  very 
ripe,  and  will  walk  through  a field  of  peas  or  beans  without  opening  a 
single  shell,  even  if  they  are  ripe. 

There  are  many  sorts  of  food  which,  though  nutritious  and  highly  salu- 
tary as  concerns  other  fowl,  are  little  short  of  downright  poison  to  turkeys. 
Amongst  others,  I may  enumerate  vetches  or  tares,  marrowfat  peas,  and 
most  sorts  of  pulse. 

The  weight  of  turkeys  has  been  much  exaggerated  by  careless,  ignorant. 


08 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


or,  perhaps,  credulous  writers;  and  60  lbs.  is,  by  some,  mentioned  as  a 
common  weight.  On  the  contrary,  20  lbs.  is  a fair  weight  for  any  fat  year- 
ling bird  (and  a very  great  weight  for  a bird  of  six  months  old) ; 30  lbs.  is 
a fine  turkey  of  any  age  ; and  few  ever  exceed  40  lbs.  The  greatest  weight 
that  these  have  been  known  to  attain,  recorded  by  such  authority  as  we  can 
rely  upon,  is  56  lbs.  I have  never  seen  a turkey  of  60  lbs.  weight:  nor  do 
I know  any  one  that  has.  The  hen  takes  fat  more  readily  than  the  cock, 
and  is,  in  proportion  to  her  size,  a tenderer  and  better  dish. 

THE  GUINEA  HEN,  OR  PINTADO. 

The  Original  country  of  the  Guinea  fowl  is,  as  its  name  implies,  Africa  ; 
but  it  is  likewise  common  in  America,  where  it  is  supposed  to  be  indigenous, 
•s  well  as  the  turkey. 

The  Guinea  fowl  is  slightly 
larger  than  the  ordinary  barn- 
door fowl,  but  is  inferior  in  size 
to  the  larger  foreign  breeds,  as 
the  Malay  and  Spanish ; in  both 
aspect  and  character  it  appears 
to  occupy  a position  between 
the  pheasant  and  the  turkey. 
Although  long  familiarized,  the 
Guinea  fowl  has  never  been 
fully  domesticated,  still  retain- 
ing much  of  the  restlessness  and 
shyness  of  its  primitive  feral 
habits.  It  is  very  courageous, 
and  will  not  only  frequently  at- 
tack the  turkey,  but  even  prove 
victorious  in  the  encounter. 

The  cock  and  hen  are  so  nearly  alike,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  distinguish 
them ; there  is  sometimes  a difference  of  hue  in  certain  parts  ; but  this  dif- 
ference only  occurs  occasionally,  and  indeed,  it  is  on  gait,  voice,  and  de- 
meanor, that  we  must  chiefly  depend.  It  must  be  remarked  that  they  pair  ; 
therefore  a second  hen  will  be  neglected  and  useless  except  for  eggs. 

As  a source  of  profit  I cannot  recommend  these  fowl : the  eggs  are  very 
small,  and  the  flesh  not  being  likely  to  please  every  palate.  Still,  however, 
as  the  Guinea  fowl  require  but  little  trouble  or  attention,  and  their  eggs, 
though  of  small  size,  are  well  flavored  and  numerous,  they  are  generally 
kept  wherever  there- is  accommodation  for  them.  The  chief  objection  to 
them  is  their  cry,  or  scream ; and  even  this,  again,  has  its  advantages,  in- 
variably predicting  a change  of  weather:  they  can  hardly,  however,  bt> 
kept  with  other  poultry,  on  account  of  thdr  pugnacity. 


THE  GUINEA  FOWL. 


TEA  FOWL. 


09 


The  Guinea  fowl  dislikes  confinement,  and  will  not  thrive  unless  it  has 
free  liberty  ; where  such,  therefore,  cannot  be  afforded,  it  is  useless  to  attempt 
keeping  it. 

These  fowl  are  prolific ; the  hen  commences  to  lay  in  May,  and  lays 
throughout  the  entire  summer.  The  period  of  incubation  is  twenty-eight 
days  ; but  it  is  more  advisable  to  keep  the  Guinea  hen  entirely  for  laying, 
and  if  you  desire  to  hatch  any  of  the  eggs,  to  do  so  under  the  hen  of  the 
common  fowl.  You  must  keep  the  male  bird  away,  or  he  will  destroy  the 
eggs. 

The  chicks,  while  young,  require  careful  management,  and  must  W con- 
stantly fed  ; in  a short  time  they  become  perfectly  hardy.  At  nine  «^ths 
they  are  fit  for  the  table. 


PEA-FOWL. 


A Peacock  in  full  feather,  parading  on  a green  lawn,  or  from  tne  extremity 
of  a terrace-wall,  displaying  the  full  length  of  his  gorgeous  tail,  is  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  of  living  additions  to  garden  landscape.  But  of  fruit  he 
will  prove  a devourer,  not  to  be  guarded  against,  and  both  he  and  his  mate 
are  not  unfrequently  murderous  assassins  of  the  young  of  other  fowl.  The 


70 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


cock  does  not  attain  the  full  splendor  of  his  plumage  until  he  is  three  years 
old,  and  the  hen  does  not  lay  until  the  same  age.  She  lays  from  fi  e to 
seven  eggs,  and  sits  twenty-nine  days.  If  the  first  batch  of  eggs  be  taken 
away,  she  will  lay  a second,  so  that  by  having  a hen  turkey  foster  nur  e 
you  may  manage  to  have  two  broods  in  one  summer.  The  peahen  generally 
chooses  a very  retired  spot,  quite  out  of  the  way  of  the  peacocl:,  who  is 
often  a cruel  unnatural  father.  The  young  must  be  hatched  like  Guinea 
fowl  and  young  turkeys : unless  amply  and  regularly  fed  they  are  apt  to 
wander.  When  fat  and  hung  long  enough,  they  make  a delicious  and  splen- 
did roast.  They  should  be  larded  with  slices  of  fat  bacon,  the  head  and 
neck  with  the  feathers  on,  carefully  wrapped  in  paper,  and  tucked  under  the 
wing  away  from  the  fire,  and  when  ready  set  up  in  purple  glory,  to  match 
the  tail  adorned  with  feathers,  neatly  stuck  in  at  the  last  moment.  If 
you  wish  pea-fowl  to  agree  with  other  poultry,  they  must  be  reared  with 
them. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

WEB-FOOTED  BIRDS. 

(anatidje). 

A family  of  web-footed  birds  whose  habits  are,  generally  speaking, 
aquatic,  though  some  of  them  are  more  so  than  others.  This  family  of  the 
Palmipedes  of  Cuvier  have  a large  and  broad  bill,  the  edges  of  which  are 
beset  with  lamina  placed  transversely.  They  are  divided  into  Swans, 
Geese,  and  Ducks.  The  limits  of  each,  however,  are  not  very  well  Refined. 

THE  SWAN. 

Swans  (Cygnus)  are  found  on  the  rivers  and  small  pools  of  fresh  water, 
rather  than  on  the  sea  or  the  larger  lakes,  and,  when  they  do  appear  on 
these,  they  are  always  found  near  the  shores,  and  never  on  the  expanse  of 
the  broad  waters.  The  chief  reason  of  this  is,  that  they  are  vegetable 
feeders,  and  although  their  long  necks  enable  them  to  reach  the  bottom  at 
considerable  depths,  they  never  dive,  and  they  rarely  feed  upon  the  land,  or 
in  any  other  mode  than  by  floating  on  the  surface  of  the  water.  They  are 
among  the  most  ornamental  of  all  the  water  birds,  on  account  of  their  great 
size,  the  gracefulness  of  their  forms  and  motions,  and  the  snowy  whiteness 
of  the  plumage  of  those  species  with  which  we  are  most  familiar.  Swans 
have,  from  the  remotest  antiquity,  attracted  the  attention  of  poets  and  other 
describers,  and  the  ancient  fable  of  their  acquiring  a nusical  song  when 
they  are  dying,  instead  of  the  husky  voice  which  they  aave  when  alive,  is 
still  repeated,  though  wholly  destitute  of  foundation. 


WEB-FOOTED  BIRDS.  Yl 

In  tome  of  the  species,  the  swans  approach  the  geese  in  many  of  their 
characters,  while  the  typical  ones  differ  considerably. 

The  Mute  or  Tame  Swan  (Cygnus  olor)  is  the  Swan,”  by  way  of  emi- 
nence. The  bill  of  the  mute  swan  is  of  a red  or  salmon  color,  with  the 
margins  and  the  basal  cere,  which  swells  into  a tubercle  of  considerable 
size,  black ; the  whole  plumage  of  the  mature  bird,  when  on  the  water  in 
a pure  atmosphere,  is  beautifully  white ; and  few  of  the  living  productions 
of  nature  are  more  beautiful  than  swans,  especially  when  they  are  upon 
small  expanses  of  clear  water.  Though  a majestic  creature  in  its  motion 
upon  the  water,  the  appearance  of  the  swan  harmonizes  best  with  that 
which  is  clear  and  tranquil,  and  grasses  and  green  meadows  add  greatly  to 
the  effect. 

In  a state  of  nature  this  species  is  migratory,  where  the  seasons  run  into 
extremes ; when  wild  they  are  compelled  to  move  southward  when  the 
weather  is  severe ; but  where  the  waters  are  open  they  continue  on  the 
same  grounds  for  the  whole  year  round,  and  where  they  are  placed  upon 
ornamental  waters  in  pleasure-grounds,  or  even  in  the  close  vicinity  of  cities, 
they  show  no  very  strong  disposition  to  shift  to  more  sequestered  haunts,  at 
any  season  of  the  year.  In  places  that  are  much  frequented  they  soon  be- 
come very  familiar ; indeed  they  are  far  from  being  timid  birds  under  any 
circumstances.  They  appear  to  be  quite  confident  in  the  power  which  na- 
ture has  given  them  ; and,  as  they  have  little  to  fear  from  enemies,  they  are 
not  much  given  to  be  pugnacious,  at  least  in  ordinary  times  of  the  year. 
When,  however,  they  have  nests,  they  not  only  defend  them  with  great 
bravery,  but  attack  in  the  most  resolute  manner,  any  animal  that  approaches, 
not  excepting  man  himself.  The  female  is  a close  sitter  during  her  incuba- 
tion, which  is  forty  days;  and  while  the  female  sits,  the  male  is  very 
assiduous  in  watching  for  the  safety  of  the  family.  He  is  ready  to  resist, 
and  by  the  most  vigorous  means  to  repel,  every  intruder,  not  excepting  his 
own  species,  who  cannot  come  within  a short  distance  of  the  nest  without 
being  attacked.  Severe  contests  often  take  place  between  the  males  upon 
• these  occasions,  more  especially  if,  as  is  sometimes  the  case,  there  is  an  odd 
or  unpaired  male  upon  the  same  water.  This  odd  one  is  not  the  assailant ; 
for,  as  he  is  not  in  the  guardianship  of  a female  and  nest,  he  does  not  appear 
to  have  the  same  excitement  as  those  which  have  this  trust  committed  to 
them;  but  if  he  is  attacked,  he  is  bold  enough  in  self-defense  ; and  it  has 
been  stated  that  if  he  should  succeed  in  killing  or  beating  off  the  legitimate 
possessor  of  the  ground,  even  after  the  incubation  is  considerably  advanced, 
he  takes  the  place  and  discharges  the  duties  of  watchman  and  protector, 
with  the  same  vigilant  assiduity  as  the  one  which  he  has  vanquished. 

The  Swan  forms  one  of  the  finest  ornaments  of  a sufficiently  extensive 
sheet  of  water,  and  a pair  will  keep  down  weeds  much  more  cheaply  and 
effectu  Uly  than  any  mechanical  appliance.  An  island  will  be  found  the  best 


12 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


DOMESTIC  SWAN. 

oreeding  place.  They  require  feeding  during  winter,  at  least;  but,  it  ia 
better  to  feed  them  constantly.  A fat  young  cygnet  affords  a delicious  dish. 
Swans,  as  well  as  all  kinds  of  wild  or  semi- wild  water  fowl,  must  be  pin- 
ioned, or  they  will  be  apt  to  depart  without  leave  at  the  improving  period 
of  the  year.  To  effect  this  operation,  find  the  joint  of  the  bastard  wing, 
which  will  include  about  five  flight  feathers,  introduce  a sharp  knife  between 
the  joints,  cut  steadily  and  boldly : no  injury  will  ensue.  The  Swan  begins 
to  lay  at  three  years  old. 

The  nest  of  the  Swan  in  a domestic  state  is  large  and  wide ; the  eggs 
are  of  a w’hite  color,  and  vary  from  six  to  eight  in  number.  The  cygnets 
are  grey,  and  do  not  acquire  their  full  plumage  till  the  second  year,  and  till 
then  they  usually  keep  in  company  with  each  other,  which  they  also  do 
with  the  old  birds,  until  the  time  of  pairing  again  comes  on.  The  cygnets 
while  they  are  in  their  grey  plumage,  have  very  little  of  the  majestic  appear- 
ance of  the  adult  swans.  As  articles  of  food,  they  are,  however,  the  only 
ones  that  are  held  in  much  estimation,  and  there  is  probably  more  of  the 
want  of  rarity  than  that  of  nature  in  them.  Taken  from  the  water  in  their 
natural  condition,  they  are  comparatively  of  little  value ; but,  when  they 
are  artificially  fattened,  they  fetch  a high  price  in  the  market.  When  tame, 
swans  are  kept  with  a view  to  profit  as  well  as  ornament ; their  down  and 
the  quills  of  their  wings  are  pulled  twice  in  the  year.  This  is  a very  cruel 


WEB-FOOTED  BIRDS. 


73 


operation ; but  then,  the  feathers  pulled  from  the  live  bird  are  better  than  if 
they  were  taken  from  it  when  dead  ; and,  if  the  operation  is  performed  near 
the  time  of  the  moult,  and  the  birds  are  well  fed,  it  is  not  so  hurtful  to  them 
as  might  at  first  be  supposed. 

The  Black  Swan  (C.  niger,)  which  is  a native  of  Australia,  but  has  been 
domesticated.  It  is  much  more  of  a tyrant  on  the  waters  than  the  White 
Swan,  and  will  allow  no  other  swimming  bird  to  live  in  its  vicinity.  The 
whole  plumage  is  black,  with  the  exception  of  the  first  six  quills,  which  are 
white ; the  bill,  and  a naked  space  round  the  eye,  are  red ; the  length  is 
about  four  feet  and  a half,  and  the  wings  rather  shorter  in  proportion  than 
the  White  Swan,  but  they  are  broad  and  strong.  The  plan  and  structure  of 
the  nest  are  about  the  same  as  those  of  the  White  Swan,  and  there  does  not 
appear  to  be  much  difference  either  in  the  food  or  the  general  habits.  The 
male  is  particularly  watchful  of  the  female  when  sitting,  and  of  both  female 
and  brood  when  they  are  on  the  water ; he  not  only  drives  off  all  other  birds, 
but  if  any  animal,  or  even  a human  being  approaches,  he  lands  and  marches 
forth  to  give  him  battle  at  a distance  from  the  family;  his  wings  are  raised 
ready  for  the  stroke,  his  feathers  ruffled,  and  he  puts  on  altogether  rather  a 
formidable  appearance.  The  young  are  produced  about  the  same  season  as 
those  of  the  White  Swan,  and  the  number  in  a brood  appear  also  to  be  the 
same.  They  are  of  a blackish  ashen  grey,  which  continues  the  whole  of 
the  first  year.  As  a curiosity  the  Black  Swan  is  very  well,  the  more  espe- 
cially that  it  was  for  such  a length  of  time  implicitly  looked  upon  as  the 
impossible  bird  that  was  nowhere  to  be  met  with ; but  it  has  none  of  the 
beauty  and  grace  of  the  White  Swan,  which  must  continue  to  be  the  favor- 
ite as  an  ornamental  bird. 

THE  GOOSE  (aNSER)  . 

Geese  are  very  numerous,  as  well  in  species  as  in  varieties.  They  are 
more  abundant  in  the  polar  countries  than  in  the  southern  regions ; and,  with 
few  exceptions,  are  completely  web-footed,  and  can  swim.  Swimming  is 
not,  however,  their  proper  and  peculiar,  or,  in  general,  even  their  chief 
motion.  If  the  structure  of  a goose,  and  the  way  in  which  the  legs  support 
the  body,  are  compared  with  those  of  a duck,  we  shall  perceive  a very  re- 
markable difference  in  the  purposes  for  which  they  are  best  adapted.  The 
bodies  of  ducks  are  “boat-built,”  and  evidently  formed  for  getting  through 
the  water  rapidly  at  a small  expense  of  effort ; their  legs  are  placed  far 
backward,  so  as  to  strike  against  the  water  which  follows  in  their  wake  ; 
while  the  Goose  is  properly  a walker,  although  the  power  of  swimming  is 
a^ded,  and  in  some  of  the  species  the  two  powers  are  nearly  equal,  while 
f ere  may  be  some  in  which  the  swimming  predominates. 

Gee6e  are  also  much  more  exclusively  vegetable  feeders  than  the  rest  of 

4 


74 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


the  Anatidce ; at  least,  with  the  exception  of  the  swans,  which  are  also  much 
more  aquatic  in  their  feeding  than  the  geese,  for  which  habit  they  are  well 
adapted  by  the  greater  length  of  their  necks.  Geese  never  dive,  nor  do  they, 
in  many  instances,  feed  below  the  surface  of  the  water,  though  they  often 
feed,  while  swimming,  on  the  seeds  and  succulent  leaves  of  floating  aqiatic 
plants. 

The  generic  characters  are : the  bill  shorter  than  the  head,  higher  than 
wide  at  the  base,  diminishing  towards  the  tip,  and  thus  having  a slightly 
conical  form.  The  teeth,  in  the  margins  and  toward  the  tip  of  the  bill,  are 
conical,  and  the  point  of  the  upper  mandible  is  generally  furnished  with  a 
nail  of  harder  consistence  than  the  rest,  and  sometimes  differently  colored. 
They  are,  generally  speaking,  polygamous ; but  there  is  no  great  external 
difference  between  the  sexes.  The  old  males  are,  indeed,  rather  larger  than 
the  females  ; but,  before  they  reach  maturity  the  two  sexes  are  very  much 
alike  both  in  size  and  color. 

The  natural  habitats  of  the  geese  are  damp  meadows,  and  tufted  marshes 
which  abound  with  plants,  a species  of  pasture  which  naturally  points  out 
why  geese  in  a state  of  nature  should  be  very  migratory  birds. 

The  goose  is  a bird  of  no  mean  consequence  in  history.  The  Roman 
geese  gave  warning  of  the  approach  of  the  foe,  and  saved  the  Capitol ; and  it 
is  from  this  circumstance,  according  to  some,  that  this  bird  has  since  been  a 
favorite  Christmas  dish.  On  account  of  this  valuable  service  rendered  by 
the  goose  to  the  Roman  state,  it  had  the  honor  of  being  eaten  with  great 
pomp  at  important  public  festivals ; amongst  which  were  the  Julian  games. 
The  Romans  introduced  the  goose  into  Britain ; Yule , the  Scotch  term  for 
Christmas,  is  derived  from  Julius , and  hence  the  goose  is  a Christmas  dish. 
1 confess  I think  this  a little  far-fetched,  and  suspect  the  true  reason  to  be, 
that  at  that  period  of  the  year  the  goose  is  in  the  best  condition,  and  fittest 
for  the  table. 

The  common  Wild,  or  Grey-lag  Goose  (A.  palustris) . — This  is  gene- 
rally understood  to  be  the  parent  stock  of  all  the  domestic  species  of  Europe. 

The  Gray- lag  is  about  thirty-five  inches  in  length,  the  female  being  some- 
what smaller.  Its  beak  is  of  a pale  flesh  color,  with  the  nail,  or  horny  tip, 
white ; the  iris  is  brown ; the  head  and  neck  of  an  ashy  gray ; the  inner 
part  of  the  wings  pale  leaden  gray ; belly  and  under  surface  of  neck  white  ; 
legs  of  a very  pale  flesh  color.  The  chief  characteristics  of  the  Grey-lag 
are  the  light  ashy-blue  color  of  the  outer  portion  of  the  wing,  and  the  con- 
spicuous white  extremity  of  the  beak.  The  Gray-lag  wild  goose  is  now 
rarely  to  be  met  with. 

The  White-fronted  Goose. — The  length  is  about  two  feet  four  inches, 
the  extent  of  the  wings  about  four  feet  and  a half,  and  the  weight  about  five 
pounds.  The  bill  is  thick  at  the  base,  of  a yellowish  red  color,  with  the 
nail  white.  A white  patch  is  extended  over  the  forehead  from  the  base  oi 


WEB-FOOTED  BIRDS. 


7 5 


the  bill  ami  corners  of  the  mouth.  The  rest  of  the  head,  neck,  and  the 
upper  parts  of  the  plumage  in  some  specimens  are  dark  biown,  and  each 
feather  is  margined  more  or  less  with  that  color;  the  primary  and  secondary 
quill  feathers  are  of  the  same,  but  much  darker,  and  the  wing-coverts  are 
tinged  with  ash.  The  breast  and  belly  are  dirty  white,  barred  with  irregu- 
lar patches  of  very  dark  brown,  and  tipped  with  lighter  shades  of  th* 
same  color.  The  tail  is  horny  ash-colored  brown,  and  surrounded  with  whit# 
at  the  base  ; the  legs  yellow* 

Of  these  four  varieties,  the  Gray-lag  and  the  White-fronted  are  obviouslj 
the  originals  of  our  domestic  geese.  The  legs  of  many  of  our  domestic 
geese  are  orange-colored,  like  those  of  the  White-fronted.  The  legs  of  th« 
wild  Gray-lag  goose  are  of  a pale  flesh  color. 

The  Canada  or  American  wild  Goose. — In  the  slenderness  of  its 
make,  and  the  form  of  its  neck,  this  bird  somewhat  approaches  the  swan. 
The  black  and  wing  coverts  are  dull  brown,  each  feather  having  a whitish 
tip ; side  pale  ashy  brown ; 
upper  part  of  head  and  neck 
black,  with  a broad  patch  of 
white  spreading  from  the 
throat  over  the  lower  part  of 
cheeks  on  each  side  ; the  bill 
is  black ; legs  and  feet  gray- 
ish black.  This  bird  is  easily 
naturalized  amongst  us,  and 
affords  good  flesh  for  the  ta- 
ble; in  captivity  it  readily 
pairs  with  the  common  gray 
goose,  and  the  young  are  su- 
perior to  either  parent  in  point 
of  size.  The  principal  objec- 
tion to  the  breeding  of  the 
Canada  goose  as  a member  of 
our  poultry  establishment,  is 
its  not  being  prolific,  and  hence  not  affording  pn  mise  of  being  profitable. 

DOMESTIC  GEESE,  AND  THEIR  MANAGEMENT. 

Amongst  the  varieties  of  our  common  domestic  goose  we  must  first  describe 
one  which,  though  of  comparatively  recent  introduction,  and  as  yet  not  gen- 
erally to  be  met  with  as  an  ordinary  inhabitant  of  farm-yards,  bids  fair, 
from  its  unusual  size,  and  capacity  of  carrying  flesh,  shortly  to  supersede  every 
other  in  the  estimation  of  the  fancier  or  breeder.  This  is 

THE  TOULOUSE  GOOSE. 

This  hi  I was  originally  imported  from  the  Mediterranean,  and  ie  know# 


CANADA  OR  AMERICAN  WILD  GOOSE. 


70 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


indiscriminately  by  the  names  of  Mediterranean,  Pyrenean,  or  that  of  Tou« 
louse.  This  bird  is  chiefly  remarkable  for  its  vast  size — a property  in  which 
it  casts  every  other  known  breed  far  into  the  shade  ; it  is  indeed,  the  mam- 
moth of  geese,  and  it  is  to  be  regarded  as  a most  valuable  addition  to  our 
stock.  The  prevailing  color  of  the  Toulouse  goose  is  a slaty  blue,  marked 
with  brown  bars,  and  occasionally  relieved  with  black ; the  head,  neck,  as 
far  as  the  beginning  of  the  breast,  and  the  back  of  the  neck,  as  far  as  the 
shoulders,  of  a dark  brown  ; the  breast  is  slaty  blue  ; the  belly  is  gray,  as 
also  the  under  surface  of  the  tail ; the  bill  is  orange  red,  and  the  feet  are 
flesh  color.  There  can  be  little  doubt  of  this  valuable  bird  being  the  un- 
mixed and  immediate  descendant  of  the  Gray-lag,  and  it  was,  indeed,  at 
once  pronounced  to  be  such  by  the  Royal  Zoological  Society  of  London,  at 
their  poultry  exhibition  of  June,  1845. 

In  habit  the  Toulouse  goose  resembles  his  congeners,  but  appears  to  possess 
a milder  and  more  easy  disposition,  which,  greatly  conduces  to  the  chance  of 
his  early  fattening,  and  that,  also,  at  little  cost.  Of  his  other  peculiarities, 
the  curl  of  plumage  on  the  neck  comes  closer  to  the  head  than  in  the  com- 
mon geese,  and  the  abdominal  pouch , which,  in  other  varieties  is  attendant 
only  upon  age,  exists  in  these  birds  from  the  shell ; the  flesh  of  the  Toulouse 
goose  is  tender  and  well  flavored.  Asa  cross  with  our  common  domestic 
goose,  I am  certain  they  will  be  found  most  valuable,  and  we  may  thus  ex- 
pect eventually  to  arrive  at  a degree  of  perfection  not  hitherto  anticipated. 
Mr.  Dixon  considers  this  to  be  no  species  or  variety,  but  merely  a well 
grown  specimen  of  the  common  goose,  raised  in  warm  weather,  and  amply 
fed,  and  he  is  probably  correct ; as  I have  reason  to  believe  that  we  dimin- 
ish the  size  of  our  geese,  and  other  poultry,  by  killing  them  oflf  before  their 
maturity. 

Several  other  species  of  southern  geese  are  mentioned  as  being  found  on 
the  Falkland  Islands,  on  Terra  del  Fuego,  and  some  other  places  of  the 
southern  lands  ; there  have  also  been  others  brought  from  South  America ; 
but  all  these  are  too  little  known,  we  are  too  little  acquainted  with  the  mi- 
gration of  birds  in  the  southern  hemisphere,  and  those  migrations  are  in 
themselves  on  so  small  a scale  compared  with  the  migrations  in  the  north, 
that  all  that  could  be  said  about  those  birds  would  be  little  else  than  a de- 
scription of  colors.  There  are,  however,  some  other  species  which  require 
a brief  notice,  because  they  deviate  in  some  respects  from  the  typical  char- 
acters of  the  genus. 

These  species  which  deviate  from  the  proper  character  of  the  geese  in 
many  points,  but  which  still  essentially  retain  that  character  in  others,  may 
be  divided  into  two  sections : First,  those  which  form  a sort  of  intermediate 
link  between  the  geese  and  the  swans  ; and  secondly,  those  which  form  a 
similar  link  between  the  geese  and  the  wading  birds,  more  especially  the 
Crane  family,  or  perhaps  the  Herons.  We  shall  take  them  in  the  order  now 


TVER-FOOTED  BIRDS. 


77 


slated,  without  being  very  particular  as  to  the  correctness  of  the  names,  be* 
cause,  though  we  are  not  quite  satisfied  with  the  existing  ones,  we  do  not 
feel  ourselve*  called  upon  to  contrive  new  ones,  as  our  object  is  not  to  make 
systems  but  to  give  useful  information. 

The  Chinese  Goose  (j1. 

Cygnoides).  This  species 
is  not  called  cygnoides,  or 
swan-like,  from  any  actual 
resemblance  that  it  has  to  a 
swan  in  any  other  respect 
than  in  colo-  ; and  that  is 
not  constant,  for  though  it  is 
sometimes  entirely  white,  it 
is  subject  to  great  variety  of 
shade.  Though  specimens 
have  been  brought  from 
China,  it  is  perhaps  not  very 
correctly  styled  the  Chinese 
goose,  inasmuch  as  it  is 
found  in  many  other  parts 
of  the  south-eastern  world, 
from  China  to  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope,  and  it  is  said,  the  Chinese  goose. 

from  New  Zealand,  though 

it  does  not  appear  to  be  met  with  in  New  Holland. 

In  addition  to  the  Chinese  Goose,  already  described,  there  are  three  sub- 
varieties,  each  presenting  striking  points  of  difference,  and  yet  being  suffi- 
ciently alike  to  justify  me  in  classing  them  together.  These  are — 

1.  The  Hong  Kong. — This  bird  has  a large  horny  knob  on  the  bill  and 
forehead ; its  prevailing  color  is  gray,  with  a longitudinal  stripe  of  a deep 
brown  running  above  the  back  of  the  neck.  The  legs  are  of  a red  color, 
whence  it  is  sometimes  distinguished  as  the  “ Red-legged  China  goose.” 
This  is  the  same  long  known  amongst  us  under  the  erroneous  name  of  the 
“ Poland  goose.” 

2.  The  Black-legged  Chinese  Goose.  Also  knobbed,  and  usually 
with  a white  edging  round  the  knob,  somewhat  similar  to  that  of  the  wild 
breed  called  the  “ White-fronted  goose.” 

3.  The  White  Chinese  Goose.  A very  handsome  bird,  knobbed  as 
the  rest,  of  a snow-white  color,  and  with  legs  of  a bright  orange  red. 

These  geese  are  inferior  in  size  to  the  Toulouse,  but  nevertheless  very  fine 
birds,  and  worthy  the  attention  of  the  breeder.  The  white  variety,  espe- 
cially, with  red  legs,  is  very  beautiful,  and  would  form  an  appropriate  orna- 
ment on  a piece  of  water.  The  flesh  of  the  Chinese  goose  is  also  good ; 
they  feed  well,  fatten  easily,  and  are  very  prolific. 


78 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


Of  our  ordinary  and  well 
known  domestic  geese  there 
exist  but  two  sorts,  whose  only 
distinction  seems  to  rest  in  their 
relative  size,  they  being  divided 
into  the  large  and  small;  and 


>\\  \ by  some,  according  to  their 
color,  into  the  white  and  the 


\\  gray-  These  divisions  are,  to  a 


certain  extent,  arbitrary ; as  out 


THE  COMMON  DOMESTIC  GOOSE. 


'^0,.  of  one  brood  you  will  generally 
find  the  several  varieties,  both 
as  to  size  and  color,  that  you 
seek.  I may,  however,  inform 
the  reader  that  the  best  sorts  of 
geese  are  those  which  vary 
least  in  color.  Those  approach- 
ing most  nearly  to  the  primitive 
stock,  are  the  birds  which  every 


best  judge  will  prefer  breeding  from.  Gray  is  the  best  color  as  coming 
nearest  to  the  original  Gray-lag ; white  is  not  quite  so  good ; but  avoid 
mixed  colors ; they  will  not  prove  so  prolific,  and  the  young  will  be  more 
difficult  to  feed  up  to  the  required  standard. 

I have  heard  it  recommended  to  try  the  experiment  of  crossing  with  the 
original  wild  stock.  This  would,  no  doubt,  be  a most  excellent  plan.  The 
Gray- lag  would  be  the  mark  ; but  it  is  now  scarce.  This  was  doubtless  the 
plan  resorted  to  by  the  Spaniards,  whom  we  have  to  thank  for  our  recent 
invaluable  acquisition  of  the  Toulouse  variety.  All  we  have  to  do  now  is 
to  avail  ourselves,  as  far  as  possible,  of  the  superb  cross  thus  brought  within 
our  reach ; and  we  may,  ere  long,  bring  up  our  common  breed  of  gray  geese 
to  equal  that  of  the  continent. 

As  to  breeding  geese.  These  birds,  as  has  been  ascertained  by  M.  St. 
Genis,  will  pair  like  pigeons ; and  even  if  the  number  of  ganders  exceed 
that  of  the  geese,  no  noise  or  riot  takes  place,  mutual  choice  being  evidently 
the  ruling  principle.  Amongst  other  experiments  tried  by  M.  St.  Genis, 
he  left,  besides  the  patriarch  of  the  flock,  two  of  the  young  ganders,  unpro- 
vided with  mates,  but  still  those  couples  that  had  paired  kept  constantly  to- 
gether, and  the  three  single  ganders  never  attempted  to  approach  any  of  the 
females  during  the  temporary  absence  of  their  lords.  M.  St.  Genis  also  ie- 
marked,  in  the  course  of  his  observations,  that  the  gander  is  more  frequently 
white  than  the  goose. 

Some  writers  recommend  a gander  to  be  mated  with  from  four  to  six 
gee«e  As  I have  already  remarked,  when  treating  of  poultry,  this  must  en- 


WEJB-FOOTED  BIRDS. 


7£ 


tirely  depend  on  the  object  the  breeder  may  have  in  view.  If  he  desire  eggs, 
and  eggs  alone,  one  gander  is  plenty  for  six  or  even  eight  geese.  He  may, 
indeed,  abandon  the  unnecessary  trouble  of  keeping  a gander  at  all.  It, 
however,  so  happens,  that  keeping  geese  for  the  produce  of  their  eggs  alone, 
is  anything  but  profitable  ; and  hence  these  must  be  rendered  duly  fertile  ; 
and.  to  effect  this,  one  gander  to  an  almost  indefinite  number  of  geese  will 
not  answer.  For  the  purpose  of  hatching,  a gander  should  be  mated  with, 
at  most,  four  geese.  Let  him  be,  if  of  the  ordinary  kinds,  amongst  which 
color  varies,  of  a pure  white  or  ash-gray  color ; but  not  at  all  of  two  colors. 
Let  his  size  be  large,  his  gait  active,  his  eye  lively  and  clear,  his  voice  ever 
ready  and  hoarse,  and  his  demeanor  full  of  boldness  and  impudence.  Select 
the  goose  for  her  weight  of  body,  steadiness  of  deportment,  and  breadth  of 
foot — a quality  that,  however  unfeminine  it  appear,  happens,  in  the  instan  e 
of  geese,  to  indicate  the  presence  of  such  other  excellence  as  we  require. 

The  goose  deposits  from  ten  to  twenty  eggs  at  one  laying ; but,  if  you  d». 
not  desire  her  to  sit,  you  may,  by  removing  the  eggs  as  fast  as  they  are  laid, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  feeding  her  highly,  induce  her  to  lay  on  from  forty- 
five  to  fifty.  This  is,  however,  unusual,  and  it  is  unprofitable.  When 
tolerably  well  cared  for,  geese  may  be  made  to  lay,  and  even  hatch,  three 
times  in  the  year.  This  care  consists  merely  in  high  feeding  and  good  hous- 
ing early  in  the  spring,  so  as  to  have  the  first  brood  early  in  March ; but  I 
would  rather  have  two  good  broods  reared  than  three  bad  ones,  and  I am, 
therefore,  more  disposed  to  recommend  patience  and  moderation. 

The  goose  will,  when  left  to  the  unassisted  promptings  of  nature,  begin 
to  lay  about  the  latter  end  of  February,  or  the  beginning  of  March.  The 
commencement  of  the  laying  may  be  readily  foreseen  by  marking  such  geese 
as  run  about  carrying  straws  in  their  mouth.  This  is  for  the  purpose  of 
forming  their  nest,  and  these  individuals  are  about  to  lay.  They  should, 
then,  of  course,  be  watched,  lest  they  drop  their  eggs  abroad.  Once  a goose 
is  shut  up,  and  compelled  to  lay  her  first  egg  of  that  laying  in  any  particular 
nest,  you  need  be  at  no  further  trouble  about  her ; for  she  will  continue  to 
lay  in  that  spot,  and  will  not  stray  on  any  account  elsewhere. 

We  can  always  detect  the  inclination  of  the  goose  to  set  or  hatch.  This 
is  known  by  the  bird  keeping  in  the  nest  after  the  laying  of  each^gg  longer 
than  usual.  The  hatching  nest  should  be  formed  of  straw,  with  a little  hay 
as  a lining ; and  so  formed  that  the  goose  will  not  fling  the  eggs  over  the 
side  when  in  the  act  of  turning  them.  You  need  not  banish  the  gander ; 
on  the  contrary,  let  him  remain  as  near  the  nest  as  he  chooses : he  will  do 
no  mischief,  but  will  act  the  part  of  a most  vigilant  guardian.  About  fifteen 
eggs  will  be  found  as  many  as  a good-sized  goose  can  properly  cover. 
Do  not  meddle  with  the  eggs  during  the  incubation,  and  do  not  meddle 
with  the  goose;  bir.,  as  she  is  somewhat  heavier  than  the  hen,  you 
leave  her  food  and  drink  rather  nearer  to  her  than  is  necessary 


80 


DOMESTIC  FOWI . 


with  common  poultry,  as,  if  she  chanced  to  absent  herself  from  the  eggs 
sufficiently  long  to  permit  them  to  cool,  she  might  become  disheartened,  and 
desert  her  task  altogether.  It  is,  however,  unnecessary  to  put  either  vinegar 
or  pepper  in  her  food  or  water,  as  recommended  by  some,  or,  in  short,  to 
meddle  with  her  at  all. 

The  goose  will  sit  on  her  eggs  for  nearly  two  months ; but  the  necessary 
period  of  incubation  being  but  one,  the  early  hatched  goslings  must  be  re- 
moved lest  the  more  tardy  might  be  deserted.  About  the  twenty-ninth  day 
the  goslings  begin  to  chip  the  shell ; and  if  their  own  powers  prove  inade- 
quate to  their  liberation,  aid  may  be  rendered  them,  and  that,  also,  with 
much  less  risk  than  in  the  case  of'other  young  birds,  the  shell  and  its  mem- 
branes being  very  hard  and  strong,  and  the  young  themselves  also  hardy, 
and  capable  early  of  enduring  hardship.  The  best  plan  is  to  have  the  eggs 
set,  of  as  nearly  as  possible  equal  freshness,  that  they  may  be  hatched  at 
the  one  time. 

On  first  being  hatched,  turn  the  goslings  out  into  a sunny  walk,  if  the 
weather  will  permit  of  such  procedure  ; but  do  not  try  to  make  them  feed 
for,  at  least,  twelve  hours  after  leaving  the  shell.  Their  food  may  then  be 
bread  soaked  in  milk,  porridge,  curds,  boiled  greens,  or  even  bran,  mixed 
with  boiled  potatoes,  taking  care  not  to  give  the  food  in  too  hot  a state, 
while  you  equally  avoid  giving  it  cold.  Avoid  rain  or  cold  breezes ; and 
see,  therefore,  that  the  walk  into  which  you  turn  the  young  goslings  be 
sheltered  from  both  wind  and  weather.  The  goslings  should  also  be  kept 
from  water  for  at  least  a couple  of  days  after  hatching.  If  suffered  too  early 
to  have  free  access  to  water,  they  are  very  liable  to  take  cramp — a disease 
which  generally  produces  permanent  lameness  and  deformity,  and  but  too 
frequently  proves  fatal. 

Geese  should  have  an  enclosed  court  or  yard,  with  houses  in  which  they 
may  be  shut  when  occasion  requires.  It  is  better,  however,  to  confine  them 
as  little  as  possible ; and,  by  suffering  them  to  stroll  about,  and  forage  for 
themselves,  the  expense  of  rearing  them  will  fall  comparatively  lightly  on 
you,  so  that  you  will  not  be  conscious  of  any  outlay.  Geese  require  water, 
and  cannot  be  advantageously  kept  when  they  cannot  have  access  to  it ; 
still,  however,  I have  known  them  thrive  where  they  had  no  access  to  any 
pond  or  river,  but  had  only  a small  artificial  pool,  constructed  by  their 
owners,  in  which  to  bathe  themselves.  When  geese  are  at  all  within  reach 
of  water,  they  will,  when  suffered  to  roam  at  liberty,  usually  go  in  search 
of,  and  discover  it,  and  will,  afterwards,  daily  resort  thither.  Though  the 
birds  are  thus  fond  of  water,  all  damp  about  their  sleeping  places  must  be 
scrupulously  guarded  against.  Grass  is  as  necessary  to  the  well-being  of 
geese  as  water ; and  the  rankest,  coarsest  grasses,  such  as  are  rejected  by 
cattle,  constitute  the  goose’s  delicacy.  Such  grasses  as  they  prefer,  will  be 
found  on  damp,  swampy  lands,  of  which,  perhaps,  no  more  profitable  use 


WEB-FOOTED  BIRDS. 


81 


could  be  nujde.  The  stubble-field  is,  in  its  season,  an  excellent  walk  for 
geese ; for  they  there  not  only  find  the  young  grass  and  other  herbage 
springing  up  amongst  the  stubbles,  but  likewise  pick  up  much  corn  that 
would  otherwise  be  lost.  When  the  stubble-field  is  not  to  be  had,  there  is 
usuall)  something  in  the  kitchen-garden  that  would  be  wasted  if  the  geese 
were  not  turned  in ; and,  observe,  that  this  is  the  only  season  when  these 
birds  can  be  suffered  to  enter  a garden  ; for  they  are  very  destructive  both 
to  farm  and  garden  crops,  and  even  to  young  trees.  Geese  do  not  answer  to 
be  wholly  fed  on  such  green  food  as  they  can  provide  for  themselves ; but  if 
ihey  get  a few  boiled  potatoes  occasionally,  bruised  up  with  a little  bran, 
and  not  given  too  warm,  they  will  be  raised  for  the  market  at  scarcely  any 
cost,  and  will,  consequently,  be  found  very  profitable  to  the  farmer.  Market 
gardeners  should  never  be  without  geese,  which  would  consume  all  their 
refuse,  and  bring  money  into  their  pockets,  in  return  for  their  consumption 
of  what  would  otherwise  be  wasted. 

Various  measures  have  been  adopted  for  fattening  geese.  Goslings  pro- 
duced in  June  or  July,  will  fatten  without  other  food  than  what  they  will 
have  afforded  them  on  the  stubble-fields,  as  soon  as  they  are  ready  to  con- 
sume it ; but,  if  you  are  in  haste,  give  potatoes,  turnips,  or  other  roots, 
bruised  with  meal,  at  least,  once  daily.  The  goose  is  very  voracious,  and 
only  requires  to  get  plenty  to  eat  in  order  to  accumulate  fat.  Geese,  fed 
chiefly  on  grass  and  corn,  as  I have  described,  do  not,  perhaps,  attain  the 
same  bulk  with  such  as  are  crammed ; but  their  fat  is  less  rank,  and  they 
are  altogether  much  more  desirable  for  the  table. 

When  domesticated,  highly  fed,  and  left  perfectly  at  ease,  geese  grow  to 
a much  larger  size  than  they  ever  attain  in  a state  of  nature.  Various  arts, 
and  often  very  cruel  ones,  have  been,  and  are  still,  resorted  to  for  the  pur- 
pose of  fattening  them  for  the  table,  and  especially  for  enlarging  their  livers, 
which,  when  thus  unnaturally  enlarged,  and  consequently  diseased,  are  much 
prized  by  a peculiar  class  of  epicures,  although  it  is  impossible  that  any  part 
of  animals  which  are  treated  in  this  manner  can  be  wholesome.  One  mode 
of  managing  them  is,  to  nail  the  webs  of  their  feet  to  a board  on  the  floor 
near  a strong  fire,  to  sew  up  the  vent,  and  forcibly  to  cram  them  with  rich 
food,  until  they  are  at  the  point  of  death  by  suffocation  : by  this  means  the  - 
liver  grows  to  an  enormous  size,  and  the  goose  itself  increases  in  weight  to 
twenty  pounds  and  upwards.  The  fat  of  geese  principally  accumulates 
externally ; and,  generally  speaking,  it  is  difficult  of  digestion,  and  therefore 
unwholesome.  As  an  important  department  of  the  poultry  establishment, 
the  goose,  we  need  hardly  observe,  is  cultivated  in  almost  every  civilized 
quarter  of  the  world,  and,  when  under  proper  management,  forms  a profita- 
ble article  of  the  farmer’s  produce,  its  quills,  down,  flesh,  and  even  dung, 
being  all  turned  to  account. 


82 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


Michaelmas,  or  stubble  geese,  should  immediately  after  harvest  be  turned 
out  on  the  wheat  fields,  where  they  pick  up  flesh  very  fast ; but^when  taken 
up  to  be  fattened,  they  should  be  fed  with  ground  malt  mixed  with  water, 
or  boiled  barley  and  water ; and,  thus  treated,  they  grow  fatter  than  would 
at  first  be  imagined,  and  acquire  a delicate  flavor.  The  old  breeders  may 
be  plucked  thrice  a year,  and  at  an  interval  of  seven  weeks,  without  incon- 
venience ; but,  young  ones,  before  they  are  subjected  to  this  operation, 
should  have  attained  to  the  age  of  thirteen  or  fourteen  weeks,  otherwise 
they  will  pine  and  lose  their  good  qualities.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add, 
that  the  particular  nature  of  the  food,  and  the  care  that  is  taken  of  the  birds, 
materially  cont  ibute  to  the  value  of  the  feathers  and  the  down.  In  those 
neighborhoods  where  there  is  a good  supply  of  water,  they  are  not  so  sub- 
ject as  elsewhere  to  the  annoyance  of  vermin ; and  they  furnish  feathers  of 
a superior  quality.  In  regard  to  down,  there  is  a certain  stage  of  maturity, 
which  may  be  easily  discovered,  as  it  is  then  easily  detached ; whereas,  if 
removed  too  soon,  it  will  not  keep,  and  is  liable  to  be  attacked  by  insects 
and  their  larvae.  Again,  the  feathers  ought  to  be  plucked,  at  the  latest,  be- 
fore they  are  quite  cold,  else  they  will  contract  a bad  smell,  and  get  matted. 
Under  proper  management,  and  when  unmolested  by  plucking,  &c.,  the 
tame  goose  will  live  to  a great  age — even,  it  is  alleged,  to  fourscore  years, 
or  perhaps  a century. 

M.  Parmentier  describes  the  French  process  of  fattening.  This  consists 
in  plucking  the  feathers  from  the  belly,  giving  them  abundance  to  eat  and 
drink,  cooping  them  up  closely,  and  keeping  them  clean  and  quiet.  The 
month  of  November  is  the  best  time  to  fatten  geese.  It  the  process  be  de- 
layed longer,  the  pairing  season  approaches,  which  will  prevent  the  birds 
being  brought  into  condition. 

In  Poland,  geese  are,  with  this  view,  put  into  an  earthen  pot  without  a 
bottom,  and  of  such  a size  as  not  to  allow  the  bird  to  move ; they  are  then 
fed  on  a paste  made  of  ground  barley,  maize,  buckw'heat,  boiled  potatoes,  and 
milk  ; the  pot  is  so  placed  that  no  excrement  remains  in  it : and  the  birds 
get  very  fat  in  about  a fortnight.  Even  these  modes  appear  to  me  cruel  and 
unnecessary  ; and  geese  may  be  made  fat  enough  for  any  purpose  (and,  in- 
deed, too  much  so  for  the  taste  of  most  persons)  by  keeping  them  in  coops 
in  a dark  place,  and  laying  before  them  as  much  nutritious  food  as  they  can 
eat.  This  is  certainly  done  by  our  continental  neighbors  ; but  then,  as  soon 
as  the  bird’s  appetite  begins  to  flag  (wThich  is  usually  in  about  three  weeks) , 
they  are  forcibly  crammed  by  means  of  a tin  funnel,  until,  in  about  a month, 
the  poo-  birds  become  enormously  and  unhealthily  fat.  They  must  then  be 
killed,  or  they  would  die  of  repletion.  By  this  process  a disease  of  the 
liver  is  induced,  in  consequence  of  which  that  organ  attains  an  unnatural 
size,  and  is  regarded  as  a bonne  bouche  by  the  gourmand.  Ordinary  geese 


WEB-FOOTED  MUDS. 


83 


may  readily  be  fattened,  without  cramming,  to  fourteen  or  fifteen  pounds ; 
cramming  will  bring  up  their  weight  to  eighteen  or  twenty;  but  the  excess 
consists  of  rank  fat,  and  the  flesh  is  deteriorated  in  quality,  becoming  actually 
unwholesome.  The  Toulouse  geese  readily  fatten,  without  any  cramming, 
up  to  twenty-five  or  even  occasionally  thirty  pounds  weight. 

In  some  countries,  the  barbarous  custom  of  plucking  live  geese  for  the 
sake  of  their  feathers  is  resorted  to.  I am  sorry  to  have  to  say  that  this 
cruel  practice  still  obtains  extensively.  Of  its  barbarity,  I presume  I need 
say  nothing ; but  I may  observe,  that  geese  so  treated  usually  become  un- 
healthy; many  of  them  die;  and  even  of  such  as  survive,  the  flesh  is 
rendered  tough  and  unwholesome.  If  it  be  ever  true,  as  is  asserted,  that  the 
quills  cast  in  the  natural  process  of  moulting  are  of  inferior  quality,  why  not 
clip  them  away  close  to  the  skin  before  that  operation  of  nature  begins  ? 
Then  the  geese  will  only  require  warmth  and  housing  if  the  weather  be  not 
mild,  and  you  will  have  the  feathers  and  the  geese  both  unimpaired  in  qua- 
lity, and  your  consciences  unburdened  by  any  reminiscence  of  inhumanity 
on  your  part. 

THE  DUCK  (anas)  . 


THE  WILD  DUCK. 


Wild  Ducks. — Ducks  properly  so  called  admit  of  a natural  division  into 
rhree  groups,  two  of  which  have  distinctive  characters,  while  the  third, 
which  is  intermediate,  partakes  somewhat  of  the  character  of  both.  This 
distinction  is  s i once  structural  and  strongly  indicative  of  the  habits  of  the 
bird,  the  one  consisting  of  species  which  have  the  toes  webbed  together. 


84 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


the  other  of  those  which  have  the  back  toe  loose  or  separate  from  the  others. 
The  third  group  alluded  to,  partakes  more  or  less  of  the  characters  of  each ; 
in  common  language,  however,  the  General  Character  Duck  founded  upon 
the  Mallard  or  Common  Wild  Duck,  may  be  considered  as  typical  of  the 
whole  three.  The  older  naturalists  divided  these  into  Sea  Ducks,  being 
more  perfectly  web-footed,  feeding  principally  in  salt  water,  diving  much  in 
feeding,  having  a broad  bill  bending  upwards ; and  Pond  Ducks,  haunting 
ponds  and  pools,  having  a straight  and  narrow  bill,  a very  little  hind  toe, 
separated. 

The  whole  tribe  of  Ducks,  whether  aquatic  or  more  landward  in  their 
habits,  find  their  food  more  by  the  sense  of  touch  than  by  sight,  and  the  bill 
is  a very  beautifully  organized  instrument  for  that  purpose.  It  is  covered 
by  a sentient  membrane  ; and  the  edges,  which  come  in  contact  with  foreign 
substances,  are  covered  with  papillae,  and  abundantly  furnished  with  nerves, 
so  that  when  a duck  dabbles  in  the  water,  the  feeling  in  the  bill  enables  it 
to  distinguish  eatable  substances  from  the  sludge  and  pebbles  with  which 
they  are  mixed. 

The  Duck  in  a domesticated  state  is  an  interesting  and  valuable  bird,  and 
an  important  object  in  rural  economy.  They  are  more  intelligent  than 
most  races  of  ornamental  poultry,  and  from  their  habit  of  feeding  they  are 
much  less  destructive,  if  they  do  not  materially  assist  the  efforts  of  the 
husbandman.  When  kept  in  a proper  situation,  having  due  access  to  pure 
water,  and  are  fed  with  proper  food,  they  are  also  very  profitable  animals  ; 
and  though  the  flavor  of  their  flesh  is  peculiar,  and  the  fat,  especially  of  the 
aquatic  species,  is  oily  and  indigestible,  yet  they  are  far  from  unwholesome. 
If  they  have  access  to  running  streams,  or  even  a pond  of  clean  water,  it  is 
to  be  preferred,  though  even  the  ponds  usually  attached  to  farms  answer 
very  well  for  ducks.  Where  ornamental  pieces  of  water  exist  in  parks  or 
pleasure-grounds  attached  to  a gentleman’s  residence,  ducks  may  be  intro- 
duced with  very  pleasing  effect,  and  this  not  only  with  the  domesticated 
varieties,  but  even  with  those  species  which  are  in  their  natural  habits  the 
most  aquatic.  Even  the  Migratory  Duck  may  be  attracted  permanently  on 
ornamental  waters  and  tamed.  In  the  wild  state  little  is  known  of  the 
duck : the  habits  of  the  whole  race  in  the  breeding  season  are  retired  and 
silent,  and  as  they  breed  in  places  not  easily  accessible  to  man,  it  may  be 
doubted  if  the  accounts  of  naturalists  are  to  be  relied  upon.  The  males  are 
peculiarly  retiring  and  silent  after  the  pairing  season,  and  the  female  does 
not  come  abroad  till  she  can  launch  her  ducklings  on  the  water. 

THE  DOMESTIC  DUCK. 

The  duck  should  always  find  a place  in  the  poultry-yard,  provided,  that 
it  can  have  access  to  water  ; without  water  it  is  useless  endeavoring  to  keep 
these  fowl ; but  even  a very  small  supply  will  suffice.  I myself  have  kept 
them  with  success,  and  fattened  the  ordinary  duck  to  the  weight  of  eight 


WEB-FOOTED  BIRDS. 


85 


pounds,  with  no  further  supply  of  water  than  what  was  afforded  by  a large 
tub  sunk  in  the  ground,  as  I have  already  described  when  treating  of  poultry- 
yards.  It  must  be  remembered,  that  the  flesh  of  these  birds  will  be  found 
to  partake,  to  a great  extent,  of  the  flavor  of  the  food  on  which  they  have 
been  fattened ; and  as  they  are  naturally  very  foul  feeders,  care  should  be 
taken  for  at  least  a week  or  so  before  killing,  to  confine  them  to  select  food. 
Boiled  potatoes  are  very  good  feeding,  and  are  still  better  if  a little  grain  be 
mixed  through  them  ; Indian  meal  will  be  found  economical  and  nutritive, 
and  the  best  food. 

Some  recommend  butchers’  offal ; but  I may  only  warn  my  readers,  that 
although  ducks  may  be  fattened  on  such  food  to  an  unusual  weight,  and  thus 
made  profitable  for  the  market,  such  feeding  will  render  their  flesh  rank 
and  gross.  In  a garden,  ducks  will  do  good  service,  voraciously  consuming 
slugs,  frogs,  and  insects  ; nothing  coming  amiss  to  them ; not  being  scratch- 
es, they  do  not,  like  other  poultry,  commit  such  a degree  of  mischief  in  re- 
turn as  to  counterbalance  their  usefulness. 

The  duck  is  very  prolific ; has  been  known  to  lay  an  egg  daily  for  eighty- 
five  successive  days.  The  egg  of  the  duck  is  by  eome  people  very  much 
relished,  having  a rich  piquancy  of  flavor,  which  gives  it  a decided  superior- 
ity over  the  egg  of  the  common  fowl ; and  these  qualities  render  it  much  in 
request  with  the  pastry  cook  and  confectioners — three  duck  eggs  being  equal 
in  culinary  value  to  six  hen  eggs.  The  duck  does  not  lay  during  the  day, 
but  generally  in  the  night : exceptions  regulated  by  circumstances,  will,  of 
course,  occasionally  occur.  While  laying,  the  duck  requires  more  attention 
than  the  hen,  until  she  is  accustomed  to  resort  to  a regular  nest  for  de- 
positing her  eggs— once,  however,  that  this  is  effected,  she  will  no  longer 
require  your  attendance. 

The  duck  is  a bad  hatcher ; she  is  too  fond  of  the  water,  and  is,  conse- 
quently, too  apt  to  suffer  her  eggs  to  get  cold ; she  will  also,  no  matter  what 
sort  of  weather  it  be,  bring  the  ducklings  to  the  water  the  moment  they 
break  the  shell,  a practice  always  injurious  and  frequently  fatal ; hence  the 
very  common  practice  of  setting  duck  eggs  under  hens.  The  eggs  of  the 
duck  are  thirty-one  days  in  hatching ; during  incubation,  they  require  no 
turning  or  other  attention  ; and  when  hatched  only  require  to  be  kept  from 
water  for  a day  or  two ; their  first  food  may  be  boiled  eggs,  nettles,  and  a 
little  meal  ; in  a few  days  they  demand  no  care,  being  perfectly  able  to 
shift  for  themselves ; but  ducks  at  any  age  are  the  most  helpless  of  the  in- 
habitants of  the  poultry-yard,  having  no  weapon  with  which  to  defend 
themselves  from  vermin,  or  birds  of  prey,  and  their  awkward  waddling  gait 
precluding  their  seeking  safety  in  flight;  a good  stout  courageous  cock,  and 
a sharp  little  terrier  dog,  are  the  best  protectors  of  your  poultry  yard.  The 
old  duck  is  not  so  brave  in  the  defence  of  her  brood  as  the  hen ; but  she 
will,  nevertheless,  occasionally  display  much  spirit. 


86 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


THE  AYLESBURY  1)UCK. 

There  are  many  varieties  of  the  Domestic  Duck,  the  origin  of  which  is 
by  no  means  determined.  White  ducks  have  the  preference  with  many; 
and  of  all  the  white  ducks,  the  Aylesbury  is  the  favorite.  This  is  a large 
handsome  bird,  with  plumage  unspotted,  and  yellow  legs  and  feet,  and  flesh- 
colored  bill.  Until  the  introduction  of  the  variety  called  Rhone,  or  Rohan, 
but  more  probably  Rouen  Duck,  from  the  town  of  that  name  on  the  Seine, 
the  Aylesbury  Duck  was  esteemed  the  most  valuable  of  all ; the  latter  bird, 
however,  now  fairly  divides  the  honor  with  it,  and  is  by  some  regarded  as 
superior.  The  flesh  of  the  Aylesbury  duck  is  of  a most  delicate  flavor,  be- 
ing by  many  compared  to  that  of  the  chicken  ; but  it  is  asserted  that  a cross 
between  that  and  the  Rouen  Duck  is  superior  in  flavor  to  all  others. 

THE  ROUEN  DUCK. 

The  ducks  of  France  are  abundant  and  fine,  especially  in  Normandy  and 
Languedoc,  where  duck-liver  pies  are  considered  a great  delicacy. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Dixon  seems  to  consider  the  Rouen  Duck  to  be  merely  a 
dealer’s  name  for  the  common  duck.  In  this,  however,  he  is  scarcely  justi- 
fied, as  it  certainly  posse  :ses  qualities  not  to  be  found  in  the  common  brown 
duck ; these  qualities,  however,  depend  not  on  any  specific  differences,  but 
on  attention  to  a healthy  mode  of  breeding  and  rearing  them.  The  bird  is 
very  prolific,  lays  large  eggs ; and  the  name  suits  as  well  as  another. 

THE  MUSCOVY  OR  MUSK  DUCK 

Does  not,  as  some  suppose,  derive  its  name  from  having  been  brought  from 
that  country,  but  from  the  flavor  of  its  flesh,  and  should  more  properly  be 
termed  the  Musk  duck,  of  which  its  other  name  is  only  a corruption ; it  is 
easily  distinguished  by  a red  membrane  surrounding  the  eyes  and  covering 
the  cheeks.  These  ducks,  not  being' in  esteem  on  account  of  their  peculiar 
odor,  and  the  unpleasant  flavor  of  their  flesh,  are  not  worth  breeding  unless 
to  cross  with  the  common  variety,  in  which  case,  let  it  be  remarked,  that 
the  Musk  drake  must  be  put  to  the  common  duck ; this  will  produce  a very 
large  cross,  but  vice  versa , will  produce  a very  inferior  one. 

The  Musk  duck  is  a distinct 
species  from  the  common 
duck;  and  the  hybrid  race 
will,  therefore,  not  breed 
again  between  themselves, 
although  they  are  capable  of 
doing  so  with  either  of  the 
species  from  the  commixture 
of  which  they  sprung. 


MUSK  DUCK. 


DISEASES  OF  FOWL,  ETC. 


87 


THE  BLACK  EAST  INDIAN  DUCK. 

These  ducks  are  black,  and  all  black,  feathers,  legs,  and  bill,  with  a tinge 
of  deep  rich  green.  On  a pond,  mingled  with  the  white  Aylesburies,  they 
ook  extremely  well,  and  on  the  spit  they  are  more  like  wild  duck  than  any 
>ther. 

THE  CALL  DUCK. 

The  bantam  of  its  race,  usually  colored  like  the  wild  mallard,  but  often 
white.  This  color  is  preferred  by  fowlers  who  use  it  in  the  decoys,  as 
it  is  easily  distinguished  from  the  others.  These  birds  have  compact  and 
elegantly  rounded  crests,  and  are  very  handsome. 

The  Aylesbury  and  Rouen  varieties  are  the  most  valuable,  and  the  only 
ones  to  which  it  is  necessary  to  call  particular  attention. 

The  wild  duck  pairs  strickly  with  a single  mate ; the  domestic  drake  does 
not  pair,  and  should  have  from  four  to  six  mates. 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  FOWL,  WITH  THEIR  SYMPTOMS  AND  TREATMENT. 


I may  here  premise,  that  when  you  see  a fowl  begnining  to  droop  or  to  ex- 
hibit a deficiency  of  appetite,  it  is  better  at  once  to  devote  it  to  table  use.  If, 
however,  the  fowl  be  of  great  value — perhaps  a Spanish  cock — make  an  at- 
tempt to  save  him. 

The  most  common  diseases  to  which  fowl  are  liable,  are  as  follows  : — 


1.  Moulting. 

2.  Pip. 

3.  Inflammation. 

4.  Asthma. 


15.  Diarrhoea. 

6.  Indigestion. 

7.  Apoplexy. 

8.  Fever 


9.  Consumption. 

10.  Gout. 

11.  Corns. 

12.  Costiveness. 


Accidents  producing  fracture,  bruises,  ulcers,  loss  of  feathers,  &c.,  may, 
in  most  cases,  be  left  to  nature.  When  bones  are  broken,  in  most  cases  the 
patient  had  better  be  consigned  to  the  cook.  In  other  cases  of  accident  the 
good  sense  of  the  owner  will  generally  dictate  the  remedy. 

Moulting,  while,  as  being  a natural  process  of  annual  occurrence,  it  can 
scarcely  be  called  a disease,  yet  must  be  treated  of  as  if  it  really  were  one, 
from  a consideration  of  the  effects  which  it  produces.  It  is  most  dangerous 
in  young  chickens.  With  adult  birds,  warmth  and  shelter  are  usually  all 
that  is  required,  united  with  diet  of  a somewhat  extia  stimulating  and  nu- 
tritious character. 

Dr.  Bechstein  remarks,  that,  in  a state  of  nature,  moulting  occurs  to  wild 
birds  when  their  food  is  most  plentiful;  hence,  nature  herself  points  out  that 


88 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


the  fowl  should,  during  that  period,  be  furnished  with  an  extra  supply  of 
food.  After  the  third  year  the  period  of  moulting  becomes  later  and  later, 
until  it  will  sometimes  happen  in  January  or  February.  Of  course,  when 
this  occurs,  every  care  as  to  warmth  should  be  bestowed.  The  use  of  Cay- 
enne pepper  alone,  administering  two  or  three  grains  made  into  a pill  with 
bread,  will  generally  suffice.  Do  not  listen  to  the  recommendation  of  igno- 
rant or  presuming  quacks ; if  this  simple  treatment  do  not  help  them 
through,  they  will  die  in  spite  of  all  you  may  do.  # 

The  feathers  will  at  times  drop  off  fowl,  when  not  moulting,  to  a very 
considerable  extent,  rendering  them  often  nearly  naked.  This  is  a disorder 
similar  to  the  mange  in  many  other  animals  ; and  the  same  sort  of  treatment 
— viz.,  alteratives,  such  as  sulphur  and  nitre,  in  the  proportions  of  one  quar- 
ter each,  mixed  with  fresh  butter,  a change  of  diet,  cleanliness,  and  fresh  air 
in  addition  to  this — will  generally  be  found  sufficient  to  effect  the  cure.  Be 
careful  not  to  confound  this  affection  with  moulting.  The  distinction  is,  that 
in  the  latter  case  the  feathers  are  replaced  by  new  ones  as  fast  as  they  are 
cast ; in  the  former  this  is  not  so,  and  the  animal  becomes  bald.  Mr.  Martin 
relates  an  anecdote  which  would  indicate  that  fear  has  influences  as  great 
upon  birds  as  on  the  human  being.  “ A cock,”  he  says,  “ belonging  to  a 
friend,  was  dreadfully  frightened  by  a dog,  and  became  white,  but  recovered 
his  natural  plumage  at  the  next  moult.  A black  Poland  cock,  being  seized 
near  the  house  by  a fox,  his  screams  being  heard,  he  was  rescued,  desperate- 
ly wounded,  with  the  loss  of  half  his  feathers.  In  time  the  remainder  of 
his  feathers  came  off,  and  he  became  perfectly  white.” 

Pip. — A disease  to  which  young  fowl  are  peculiarly  liable,  and  that,  too, 
chiefly  in  hot  weather. 

The  symptoms  are — a thickening  of  the  membrane  of  the  tongue,  espe- 
cially towards  its  tip.  This  speedily  becomes  an  obstruction  of  sufficient 
magnitude  to  impede  the  breathing ; this  produces  gasping  for  breath ; and 
at  this  stage  the  beak  will  often  be  held  open.  The  plumage  becomes  ruffled 
and  neglected,  especially  about  the  head  and  neck.  The  appetite  gradually 
goes  ; and  the  poor  bird  shows  its  distress  by  pining,  moping,  and  seeking 
solitude  and  darkness. 

The  cause  of  this  disease  is  want  of  clean  water  and  feeding  too  much 
upon  hot  exciting  food.  Dr.  Bechstein  consider*  it  to  be  analogous  to 
the  influenza  of  human  beings.  Theories  respecting  its  nature  are  numerous 
and  of  very  little  practical  importance.  r 

Cure. — Most  writers  recommend  the  immediate  removal  of  the  thickened 
membrane.  I do  not  like  this.  Mr.  Martin  in  his  excellent  work,  recom- 
mends that  the  tongue  be  cleansed  by  applying  a little  borax  dissolved  in 
tincture  of  myrrh,  by  means  of  a camel-hair  pencil,  two  or  three  times  a-day. 
We  would  rather  anoint  the  part  with  fresh  butter  or  cream.  Prick  the 
scab  with  a r°edle,  if  you  like ; and  give  internally  a pill  about  the  size  of  a 


DISEASES  OF  FOWL,  ETC. 


89 


marble,  composed  of : — Garlic,  and  Horse-radish  scraped,  in  equal  parts,  as 
much  Cayenne  pepper  as  will  outweigh  a grain  of  wheat.  Mix  this  with 
fresh  butter,  and  give  it  every  morning — keeping  the  fowl  warm.  Keep  the 
bird  supplied  with  plenty  of  fresh  water ; preserve  it  from  molestation,  by 
keeping  it  by  itself,  and  you  will  generally  find  it  get  well  if  you  have  taken 
the  disease  in  time.  Do  not  let  any  one,  equally  ignorant  and  cruel,  persuade 
you  to  cram  the  mouth  with  snuff  after  having  torn  off  the  thickened  mem- 
brane with  your  nail.  This  is  equally  repugnant  to  humanity  and  common 
reason.  Forcing  tobacco-smoke  down  the  bird’s  throat  is  advised ; and 
when,  as  sometimes  is  the  case,  the  disease  depends  on  the  presence  of  a 
worm,  then  it  is  most  successful. 

Inflammation. — Most  of  the  diseases  to  which  poultry  are  subject  may 
be  traced  to  inflammation  exhibiting  itself  in  some  part  of  the  system. 

Inflammation  of  the  Trachea. — The  disease  to  which  this  term  is  im- 
properly applied  is  an  inflammation  of  the  tail-gland.  The  true  roup  is  a 
disease  extremely  analogous  to  influenza  in  man,  or  even  more  so  to  the 
well-known  distemper  among  dogs ; and,  in  some  forms,  perhaps,  to  the 
glanders  of  the  horse,  and  is  sometimes  termed  Gapes  and  sometimes  Roup 
or  Croup. 

The  symptoms  are — difficulty  of  breathing,  constant  gaping,  dimness  of 
sight,  lividity  of  the  eyelids,  and  the  total  loss  of  sight ; a discharge  from  the 
nostrils,  that  gradually  becomes  purulent  and  fetid : appetite  has  fled ; but 
thirst  remains  to  the  most  aggravated  extent.  Sometimes  this  disease  ap- 
pears to  occur  independently  of  any  obvious  cause  ; but  dirt,  too  hot  feeding, 
and  want  of  exercise  are  amongst  the  most  usual. 

The  remedies  recommended  are  various.  Mr.  Martin  prescribes  one 
grain  calomel  made  up  with  bread  into  a pill,  or,  if  preferred,  two  or  three 
grains  Plummer’s  pills  ( pit . hydr.  Submur.  co.  Lond.  Pharm.) , after  which 
let  flour  of  sulphur  be  administered  mixed  with  a little  ginger,  mixed  barley 
meal  reduced  to  a paste,  and  the  mouth  well  washed  in  a weak  solution  of 
chloride  of  lime.  In  the  mean  time,  let  the  bird  be  kept  in  a dry,  warm, 
well  ventilated  apartment,  and  apart  from  the  other  fowl.  When  the  bird 
dies  of  this  disease,  the  trachea  will  be  found  replete  with  narrow  worms 
about  half  an  inch  in  length  imbedded  in  slimy  mucus.  This  singular  worm 
is  the  distoma  lineare , a long  and  short  body  united,  the  long  body  being  the 
female,  the  short  the  male  ; they  are  permanently  united,  otherwise  they 
are  quite  perfect  in  themselves.  Mr.  Martin  is  uncertain  if  these  worms  are 
the  cause  or  consequence  of  the  disease  ; but  it  is  certain  when  they  have 
once  established  themselves,  their  removal  is  necessary  to  give  the  bird  a 
chance  of  recovery.  This  is  sometimes  done  by  means  of  a feather,  neatly 
trimmed,  which  is  introduced  into  the  windpipe,  and  turned  round  once  or 
twice,  and  then  drawn  out ; this  will  dislodge  some  of  the  worms  if  dex- 
terously performed,  and  with  some  knowledge  of  the  anatomy  of  the  parts 


00 


DOMESTIC  FOWI. 


Spirit  of  turpentine  in  rice,  and  afterwards  a little  salt  in  the  water,  have 
been  given  successfully. 

My  treatment  would  merely  be  warmth  and  cleanliness,  as  matters  ol 
course ; and  for  pellets — 


Powdered  gentian, 
Powdered  ginger, 
Epsom  salts, 

Flour  of  sulphur, 


1 part, 
1 “ 
4“ 


Make  up  with  butter,  and  give  every  morning. 

If  the  discharge  should  become  fetid,  the  mouth,  nostrils,  and  eyes  may 
be  bathed  with  a weak  solution,  composed  of  equal  parts  of  chloride  of  lime 
and  acetate  of  lead.  Fomentation  with  an  infusion  of  chamomile  flowers  is 
also  highly  beneficial. 

The  other  affection — that  improperly  passed  under  this  name — viz.,  swell- 
ing of  the  tail-gland — may  be  treated  as  a boil.  If  it  become  inconveniently 
hard  and  ripe,  let  the  pus  or  matter  out  with  a penknife,  and  it  will  soon  get 
well. 


Inflammation  of  the  Lungs  is  attended  by  quick  breathing  with  a 
rattle,  an  audible  dullness,  disorder  of  plumage,  vacancy  in  the  eye,  and 
general  indisposition.  Bleeding,  the  natural  remedy  for  such  symptoms,  is 
out  of  the  question,  for  how  is  a bird  to  be  bled,  and  where  ? 

Inflammation  of  the  Heart. — A fatal  disease  among  poultry,  and  only 
detected  by  examination  after  death.  The  patient  appears  to  droop,  refuses 
to  eat,  retires  to  roost,  and  is  found  dead  in  the  morning.  In  this  case,  the 
peritoneal  membrane  exhibits  indications  of  active  inflammation. 

Inflammation  of  the  Mucous  Membrane. — Generally  proceeds  from 
aggravated  diarrhoea.  The  bird  is  severely  purged,  and  the  evacuations  be- 
come more  or  less  tinged  with  blood,  and  death  ensues  unless  a speedy 
remedy  is  applied.  Damp  and  improper  food  are  the  cause  of  the  disease. 
The  remedy,  to  be  successful,  must  be  administered  early ; first,  give  a small 
quantity  of  castor  oil ; this  will  clear  the  bowels  of  irritating  secretions ; 
afterwards,  give  doses  of  hydrargyrum  cum  creta , (Lond.  Pharmacopoeia), 
with  rhubarb  and  laudanum,  as  follows : — 

Hydr.  cum  creta  - - 3 grains. 

Rhubarb,  - - - 2 or  3 grains. 

Laudanum,  - - 2,  3,  or  4 drops. 


Mix  in  a teaspoonful  of  gruel,  and  give  twice  a day. 

Asthma  is  characterised  by  gaping,  panting,  and  difficulty  of  breathing. 

We  need  not  go  far  to  seek  for  a cause.  Our  poultry  are  originally  natives 
of  tropical  climates ; and,  however  well  they  may  appear  climatized,  they, 
nevertheless,  require  an  equable  temperature,  unaided  by  artificial  means. 
Hence  coughs,  colds,  catarrh,  asthma,  pulmonary  consumption,  arise  from 
variable  climate. 

Cure. — Warmth  with  small  repeated  doses  of  hippo  powder  and  sulphur 


DISEASES  OF  FOWL,  ETC.  01 

mixed  with  butter.  The  addition  of  Cayenne  pepper  will  be  an  improve- 
ment. 

Diarrhcea  is  occasioned  by  damp,  and  sometimes  by  improper  food.  Re- 
move the  bird  into  dry  quarters ; change  the  food  ; if  it  become  very  severe, 
give  chalk  ; add  a little  starch,  mixed  with  Cayenne,  to  porridge,  and  give 
it  moderately  warm. 

Indigestion. — Caused  by  over-feeding  and  want  of  exercise.  Lessen 
the  quantity  of  food ; turn  the  fowl  into  an  open  walk,  and  give  some  pow- 
dered gentian  and  Cayenne  in  the  food. 

Apoplexy. — Symptoms — Staggering,  shaking  of  the  head,  and  a sort  of 
tipsy  aspect.  Some  persons  have,  from  ignorance  of  the  true  cause  of  this 
affection,  treated  it  as  proceeding  from  intestinal  irritation,  and  prescribed 
castor-oil  with  syrup  of  ginger,  &c.  Scanty  food,  and  that  of  light  quality, 
and  the  application  of  leeches  to  the  back  of  the  neck,  constitute,  in  my 
opinion,  the  only  effectual  remedy.  Perhaps,  however,  it  is  better  to  have 
the  poor  bird  at  once  handed  over  to  the  cook. 

Parasites  in  fowls. — The  insects  which  infest  animals  of  all  kinds, 
more  especially  domesticated  ones,  are  the  bane  of  their  existence.  In 
poultry  they  are  particularly  obnoxious,  and  the  utmost  possible  cleanliness 
and  frequent  lime-washing  and  fumigation,  are  necessary  to  keep  them  in 
proper  condition.  White  precipitate  pow^der,  applied  with  a small  camel- 
hair  pencil,  in  small  quantities,  will  destroy  lice  and  other  parasites. 

Like  the  domestic  fowl  the  peacock  has  also  its  parasites  in  the  Goniodes 
pulcicornis.  After  the  death  of  the  bird  the  insect  may  be  found  congre- 
gated in  numbers  about  the  base  of  the  beak  and  crown  of  the  head.  Mr. 
Denny  wras  induced  to  examine  all  the  genera  of  domesticated  birds,  and  he 
found  on  the  T urkey  Lipeurus  poly  trapezius  as  a common  parasite ; the 
Goniodes  stylifer  is  also  frequent  in  the  head,  neck,  and  breast.  Over  the  do- 
mestic fowl  he  found  three  species  of  parasitic  Gonoides  dissimilis  of  rare 
occurrence.  Lipeurus  variabilis  preferring  the  primary  and  secondary 
feathers  of  the  wing,  among  the  ribs  of  which  they  move  with  great  celerity. 
Menopon  pallidum  he  also  found  in  great  abundance  on  the  domestic  fowl ; 
and,  as  a general  rule,  he  observed  that  when  twTo  or  more  species  frequented 
the  same  species  of  bird,  each  had  its  own  locality. 

The  remedy  in  all  cases  is  cleanliness,  and  when  the  fowls  are  over  in- 
fested, fumigation  and  a plentiful  sand  bath  of  clean,  dry  and  rough  sand ; 
for  the  w’hite  precipitate  powder,  named  above,  is  poisonous,  and  only  fit  to 
be  used  on  very  young  birds,  which  have  not  yet  learned  the  art  of  preening 
their  feathers  with  their  bill. 

Fever. — Fowl  are  frequently  subject  to  febrile  affections.  The  mode  of 
treatment  is  simple — light  food,  and  little  of  it;  change  of  air;  and,  if  ne- 
cessary aperient  medicines — such  as  castor-oil,  with  a little  burnt  butter. 

Consumption  I regard  as  incurable  ; but,  if  anything  will  dp  good,  it  is 
change  of  air  and  warmth. 


02 


DOMEB'JIC  FOWI.. 


Gout. — Its  effects  are  obvious.  Pellets  of  Colchicum  may  be  used ; but 
if  you  had,  as  you  should  have  done,  killed  your  fowl  before  they  became  so 
old,  it  would  have  been  more  rational.  They  are  now  past  use.  Sulphur 
may  also  be  found  useful. 

Corns. — These  may  generally  be  extracted  with  the  point  of  a penknife. 
If  ulcerated,  as  will  often  occur  when  neglected,  touch  with  lunar  caustic, 
and  you  may  thus  succeed  in  establishing  healthy  granulations. 

Costiveness. — This  affection  will,  in  general,  yield  to  castor-oil  and 
burnt  butter.  The  diet  should  be  sparing.  Thin  porridge  will  be  found 
useful. 

In  the  case  of  fractures,  put  the  fowl  to  death  without  loss  of  time.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  bruises.  By  this  you  not  merely  avoid  some  loss,  but 
save  the  poor  bird  much  suffering. 

The  accidental  stripping  of  the  feathers  must  not  be  confounded  with  the 
mangy  affection  already  treated  of.  The  difference  will  be  seen  by  examin- 
ing the  state  of  the  skin  where  it  is  exposed. 

Ulcers  may  be  kept  clean,  dressed  with  a little  lard,  or  washed  with  a 
weak  solution  of  sugar  of  lead,  as  their  aspect  indicates.  If  sluggish,  touch 
with  bluestone. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

CAPONIZING. 

The  objects  proposed  in  converting  a cock  into  a capon  are  the  following : 
— his  natural  fierceness  is  quelled ; he  becomes  placid  and  peaceful ; his 
pugnacity  has  deserted  him ; he  no  longer  seeks  the  company  of  the  hens ; 
he  grows  to  a far  larger  size  than  he  otherwise  would  have  done  ; he  acquires 
flesh  with  much  greater  rapidity,  and  that  flesh  is  peculiarly  white,  firm,  and 
succulent,  and  even  the  fat  is  perfectly  destitute  of  rankness.  To  these  ad- 
vantages another  may,  perhaps,  be  added — viz.,  the  capon  may,  by  a little 
management,  be  converted  into  an  admirable  nurse,  and  will  be  found  par- 
ticularly valuable,  in  this  respect,  to  parties  using  the  eccalobeion , or  hatching- 
machine. 

The  process  has  been  made  a subject  of  much  unnecessary  mystery,  and, 
I regret  to  add,  of  much  unnecessary  cruelty.  In  point  of  fact,  caponizing 
is  an  extremely  simple  affair,  which  the  country  henwives  in  France  per- 
form with  facility  and  certainty.  The  practice  of  the  French  country 
women  is  to  select  the  close  of  the  spring,  or  the  beginning  of  autumn,  as 
well  as  fine  weather,  for  the  performance  of  their  work.  The  parts  neces- 
sary to  be  removed  being  fixed  in  the  abdomen,  and  attached  to  the  spine  at 


CAPONIZING. 


93 


the  region  01  the  loins,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  open  the  abdominal 
cavity  for  the  purpose  of  their  extraction.  The  bird  should  be  healthy, 
fasting,  and  about  three  months  old.  He  is  then  to  be  secured  by  an  assist- 
ant, upon  his  back,  his  belly  upwards,  and  his  head  down,  that  the  intestines, 
&c.,  may  fall  up  towards  the  breast ; the  tail  is  to  be  towards  the  operator. 
The  right  leg  is  then  carried  along  the  body,  and  the  left  brought  backwards, 
and  held  in  this  position,  so  as  to  leave  the  left  flank  perfectly  bare,  for  it  is 
there  that  the  incision  is  to  be  made.  The  said  incision  is  to  be  directed 
from  before  backwards,  transversely  to  the  length  of  the  body,  at  the  middle 
of  the  flank  and  slightly  to  the  side  between  the  ends  of  the  breast-bone 
and  the  vent.  Having  plucked  away  the  feathers  from  the  space  where  it 
is  intended  to  make  the  incision,  you  take  a bistoury  or  a scalpel,  and  cut 
through  the  skin,  abdominal  muscles,  and  peritoneum ; it  is  better  to  do  this 
at  two  or  more  cuts,  in  order  to  avoid  the  possibility  of  wounding  the  intes- 
tines— a casualty  that  would,  in  most  cases,  be  attended  with  fatal  results. 
The  intestines  present  themselves  at  the  orifice ; but  you  must  not  suffer 
them  to  come  out;  on  the  contrary,  you  press  them  gently  aside,  so  as  to 
have  room  for  action.  I may  observe,  that  the  incision  should  have  been 
sufficiently  large  to  admit  of  the  forefinger,  previously  well  oiled,  being 
passed  into  the  abdomen,  and  carried  carefully  towards  the  lumbar  region  of 
the  spine : you  will  there  find  what  you  are  in  search  of.  You  first  reach 
the  left  substance,  which  you  detach  with  your  nail,  or  with  your  finger  bent 
hook-fashion ; then  you  arrive  at  the  right,  which  you  treat  similarly — 
bring  both  substances  forth ; you  finally  return  the  intestines,  sow  up  the 
wound  with  a silk  thread — a very  few  stitches  will  suffice — and  smear  the 
place  with  a little  fresh  butter.  The  comb  of  the  capon  does  not  grow  to 
any  size,  and  always  retains  a pallid  color. 

The  process  having  been  performed  as  above  described,  the  bird  is  placed 
in  a warm  house,  where  there  are  no  perches,  as,  if  such  appliances  were 
present,  the  newly-made  capon  might  very  probably  injure  himself  in  his  at- 
tempts to  perch,  and  perhaps  even  tear  open  the  sutures,  and  possibly  occa- 
sion the  operation,  usually  simple  and  free  from  danger,  to  terminate  fatal- 
ly. For  about  a week,  the  food  of  the  bird  should  be  soft  oatmeal  porridge, 
and  that  in  small  quantities,  alternated  with  bread  steeped  in  milk ; he  may 
be  given  as  much  pure  water  as  he  will  drink ; but  I recommend  that  it  be 
tepid,  or  at  least  that  the  chill  be  taken  off  it.  At  the  end  of  a week,  or,  at 
the  farthest,  ten  days,  the  bird,  if  he  has  been  previously  of  a sound  vigor- 
ous constitution,  will  be  all  right,  and  may  be  turned  out  into  the  walk  com- 
mon to  all  your  fowl. 

The  Malays  are  particularly  adapted  for  caponizing,  and,  when  properly 
fattened,  at  a suitable  time  after  the  operation,  attain  a bulk  and  weight  that 
would  surprise  such  persons  as  have  never  seen  a caponized  specimen  of  that 
breed,  the  birds,  in  fact,  rivalling  the  finest  turkeys. 


94 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


An  ope.ution  of  a similar  nature  is  performed  upon  hens,  either  before 
they  have  begun  to  lay,  or  after  they  have  ceased  to  do  so,  for  the  purpose 
of  preventing  them  from  laying  in  future.  This  renders  them,  as  the  other 
doe*  the  cock,  more  susceptible  of  taking  flesh,  arid  that  of  a finer  quality 
than  ordinary.  It  is  proper  to  remind  the  reader  that,  of  course,  when  it  is 
deemed  advisable  thus  to  deprive  a hen  of  the  power  of  reproduction,  such 
a one  should  always  be  selected  as  presents  deformities  or  other  defects  that 
ought  to  render  her  unfit  for  breeding  purposes. 

The  caponizing  of  pullets  is  performed  in  much  the  same  manner  as  in 
the  case  of  cocks.  The  oviduct  is  found  towards  the  loins,  and  is  extracted 
in  the  same  manner  as  already  described  in  the  former  case.  Some  French 
writers,  however,  and  Schreger  amongst  the  first,  state,  that  in  the  case  of 
pullets  or  hens  the  operation  is  unnecessary,  it  being  only  required  to  make 
a small  incision  just  above  the  vent,  on  a little  eminence  that  will  be  per- 
ceived in  that  place;  then,  by  repeated  pressure,  you  cause  the  protrusion  of 
the  uterus — a little  whitish  body ; this  is  cut  away,  the  wound  heals  of  it 
self,  and  nothing  further  is  required. 

When  necessary,  in  either  case,  to  employ  sutures  for  the  purpose  of  clos- 
ing the  wound,  great  care  must  be  taken  to  avoid  involving  the  intestines  in 
the  stitches.  I warn  the  operator  that,  if  he  be  tedious  in  the  performance 
of  his  work,  the  chances  are  greatly  against  his  success.  Whoever  proposes 
to  caponize  should  acquire  dexterity  of  manipulation  by  practising  on  the 
dead  bird,  before  he  endeavors  to  use  his  knife  upon  the  living:  when  such 


INSTRUMENTS  FOR  CAPONISING. 


SCALPEL. 


CAPONISING. 


95 


INSTRUMENTS  FOR  CAROMS ING. 

These  are,  a scalpel,  for  cutting  open  the 
fowl,  and  cutting  the  thin  skin  wnich  en- 
velops the  testicles  ; a silver  retractor,  for 
stretching  open  the  wound  wide  enough  to 
operate  within  ; a pair  of  sptHng  forceps,  de- 
noted by  the  letter  a,  having  a sharp  cutting 
edge,  like  that  of  a chisel,  with  a bevel 
half  an  inch  in  its  greatest  width,  for 
making  the  incision  and  securing  the  thin 
membrane  covering  the  testicles  ; a spoon- 
shaped  tool,  marked  h.  with  a sharp  hook  at 
one  end  for  pushing  and  removing  the  tes- 
ticles, adjusting  the  loop,  and  to  assist  in 
tearing  open  the  tender  covering  of  the 
testicles  ; and  a double  silver  canula,  marked 
c,  for  containing  the  two  ends  of  horse 
hair  or  fibre  constituting  the  loop,  to  be 
passed  around  the  testicle  to  draw  it  out. 


FORCEPS,  SPOON  AND  CANULA. 


06 


DOMESTIC  FOWL. 


precat.tions  are  used,  the  operation  will  be  divested  of  much  of  its  apparent 
cruelty ; and  if  to  be  resorted  to  at  all,  every  precaution  should  be  taker, 
to  outrage  humanity  as  little  as  possible. 

Sometimes,  but  rarely,  this  operation  is  performed  on  turkeys,  geese,  and 
ducks ; the  reason  why  it  is  performed  so  rarely  on  these  birds  is,  that,  from 
the  great  plumpness  of  their  bodies,  what  we  want  to  arrive  at  is  farther 
from  our  reach,  the  operation,  of  course,  so  much  the  more  difficult,  and  the 
probability  of  success  so  much  the  more  remote. 

The  capon  is  so  very  much  disposed  of  itself  to  take  on-flesh  that  it  will, 
in  general,  attain  to  sufficient  condition  in  the  yard,  or  about  the  barn  door. 
Sometimes,  however,  it  is  deemed  advisable  to  cram  him.  This  practice  in- 
duces rapid  growth  in  little  time,  a very  delicate  quality  of  flesh  (I  except 
the  caponized  gander  from  this) , and  also  causes  him  to  fetch  a higher  price 
in  the  market.  When  it  is  considered  desirable  to  cram  a capon,  he  is  taken 
and  placed  in  a dark  and  quiet  house,  or  coop,  so  small  that  he  shall  be  un- 
able to  exercise  ; he  may  then  be  fed  with  pellets  of  meal  and  milk.  Pea- 
meal  or  bean-meal  will  be  found  to  impart  a fine  flavor  to  the  flesh,  but  if 
this  description  of  food  be  found  too  binding,  let  pellets  of  barley-meal  be 
given,  till  the  undesired  effect  is  removed  ; the  bird  should  be  left  as  much 
food  as  he  will  eat,  and  should,  besides,  be  crammed  at  least  three  times  a 
day.  In  three  weeks  he  will  be  ready  for  use.  It  may  not  be  amiss  here 
to  remind  the  reader  that  the  droppings  of  the  bird  are  almost,  if  not  quite, 
as  valuable  as  guano  for  the  purpose  of  manure. 

A little  dish  of  fine  gravel  or  coarse  sand,  left  in  the  feeding  trough,  will 
be  relished  by  the  birds,  will  promote  digestion,  and  will,  of  course,  thus  aid 
ia  conducing  to  their  rapid  fattening. 


THE  COW 


nrg 


anti  Of  attic  §rcct)tiuv 


BY  M.  M.  MILBURN, 

Author  of  Prize  Essays  of  the  Royal  Agricultural  Society  of  England. 


EDITED  BY  AMBROSE  STEVENS 

Editor  of  Youatt  & l.artin  on  Cattle 


SSiljj  Illustrations  on  Moob. 


NEW  YORK: 

<J.  M . SAXTON  AND  COMPANY, 
AGRICULTURAL  BOOK  PUBLISHERS, 

No.  140  Fulton  Stkeet. 

1856. 


Filtered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1852,  by 
C.  M.  SAXTON, 

in  the  Clerk's  Other  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  Stales,  for  the  Southern  District  of 

New  York. 


PUBLISHER’S  ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  Publisher,  having  found  the  want  of  small,  cheap  Books,  of 
acknowledged  merit,  on  the  great  topic  of  farming  economy,  and 
meeting  for  those  of  such  a class  a constant  demand,  offers,  in  his 
Rural  Handbooks,  of  which  this  is  one,  works  calculated  to  fill  the 
void. 

He  trusts  that  a discerning  Public  will  both  buy  and  read  these 
little  Treatises,  so  admirably  adapted  to  all  classes,  and  fitted  by 
their  size  for  the  pocket,  and  thus  readable  at  the  fireside,  on  the 
road,  and  in  short  everywhere. 

C.  M.  SAXTON, 

Agricultural  Book  Publisher. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE 


The  American  Publisher  placed  this  little  book  in  the  hands  of  the  editor  to  be  American- 
ized. Mr.  Milburn,  its  author,  is  a resident  of  Yorkshire,  England,  a county  whose  cattle 
are  almost  wholly  of  the  short  horn  kind.  While  he  does  ample  justice  to  the  favorite 
breed  of  his  own  region,  he  much  underrates  the  Devons  and  Herefords.  It  is  unfortu- 
nately the  case  that  in  England  the  breeders  of  particular  races  of  animals  admit  little 
or  no  merit  in  other  varieties.  Due  allowance  must  be  made  for  the  author’s  position  in 
a short  horn  cattle  region,  and  his  consequent  partialities. 

Cattle,  milk,  butter,  and  cheese-making  are  the  same  essentially  in  all  countries.  Va 
riations  of  climate  and  soil  make  different  breeds  of  beasts  preferable  in  different  regions  . 
and  the  same  causes  act  to  somewhat  change  the  processes  of  producing  butter  and  cheese 
Yet  a good  treatise  on  these  subjects  will  suit  all  countries  and  all  varieties  of  breeds. 

This  little  Look  contains  much  valuable  matter,  in  a compact  form  and  at  a low  price, 
that  is  nowhere  else  so  accessible  and  so  reasonable.  The  American  editor  has  adapted 
it  to  the  American  farmer  and  breeder,  preserving  the  views  and  opinions  of  the  author, 
correcting  obvious  errors  in  fact,  and  rendering  this  edition  of  more  value  to  the  Ameri- 
can reader  than  the  English  one. 

In  America  it  has  been  found,  that  the  Devons,  while  suited  to  all  latitudes,  are  better 
fitted  for  the  climate  of  the  extreme  south  and  the  extreme  north  than  any  other  breed  of 
cattle.  In  Georgia  and  Canada,  they  are  superior  to  all  others  either  for  milk  or  feeding. 
In  a few  years  all  New  England  will  be  occupied  with  this  breed,  as  the  one  best  adapted 
to  its  pastures  and  its  climate 

The  short  horn  and  the  Alderney  are  by  experience  shown  to  be  adapted  only  to  tin 
more  temperate  portions  of  our  country.  Within  this  range  the  short  horn  has  no  equal 
as  a whole,  for  beef  and  milk. 

The  American  breeder  and  dairyman  should  therefore  choose  his  breed  in  reference  to 
his  locality.  In  doing  this  he  should  confine  himself  to  the  short  horn  and  Devon  races, 
when  he  designs  to  breed  with  a view  to  both  beef  and  milk.  In  merely  grazing  regions, 
where  the  dairy  forms  no  object,  he  may  select  also  the  Herefords  <is  a good  beef  and 
feeding  race,  and  adapted  to  all  regions  whose  pasture  and  climate  sui*  the  short  horn. 
So  far  as  experiments  have  been  tried,  the  Ayrshire  breed  may  be  said,  in  general,  to 
have  failed,  and  should  therefore  be  avoided.  The  Alderney  is  only  to  be  commended  to 
the  amateur,  or  those  keeping  a single  cow ; she  gives  a small  quantity  of  very  rich 
milk,  that  furnishes  a great  luxury  in  its  cream  and  butter  ; but  while  these  are  rich, 
they  are  too  small  in  quantity,  and  the  milk  is  very  defective  in  its  cheese-making  prop- 
erty. 

The  American  breeder  will  thus  see  the  propriety  of  being  guided  by  the  experience  of 
those  who  have  tested  in  their  own  (dimate  and  on  their  own  soils,  the  different  breeds, 
and  shown  those  which  are  best  fitted  for  both. 


AMBROSE  STEVENS. 


CONTENTS. 


Adcpert’s  aj,i  DischoflTs  methods  of  pre- 
serving m»nc,  66. 

Alderney  breed,  19  ; its  qualities,  20  ; cri- 
terions  of  the  improved  Alderney  cow, 
21  ; produce  of,  20  ; comparison  between 
the  Kerry  and  Alderney  breeds,  20. 

Angus  breed,  the,  39. 

Arable  land,  how  best  managed  for  cot- 
tager cow-keepers,  84. 

Ayrshire  breed,  the,  17  ; Aiton’s  descrip- 
tion of,  17  ; produce  of,  17  ; their  power 
to  give  milk  to  a very  late  period,  18. 

Bison,  or  wild  ox,  supposed  original  of 
our  domestic  breed,  10  ; habits  in  its  na- 
tive haunts,  10. 

Buffalo,  the,  used  for  domestic  purposes  in 
the  East  and  in  Africa,  1-0. 

Butter,  instructions  for  making,  52  ; useful 
points  to  be  noted,  53  ; how  to  preserve, 
54  ; cure  of  rancid,  55  ; mode  of  preserv- 
ing in  Holstein,  55. 

Bretagne  butter,  its  mode  of  manufacture, 
54. 

Calves,  rearing,  88  ; materials  of  food,  91  ; 

Cattle,  their  importance  to  man,  9 ; their 
introduction  into  Britain,  10  ; specula- 
tions on  the  origin  of,  12,  13  ; estimated 
number  and  value  of  in  the  United  King- 
dom, 13  ; trade  in  London,  13  ; classifi- 
cation of,  13  ; divided  into  fat-producing 
and  milk-producing,  14  ; observations 
on  their  form  as  influencing  their  quali- 
ties, 27. 

Caitle-feeding,  principles  of,  94  ; very  va- 

* rious  modes  adopted  by  different  cattle- 
breeders,  95,  96  ; the  food,  97,  98  ; its 
preparation,  97  ; Mr.  Warnes’  plan,  97  ; 
Mr.  Marshall’s,  101  ; management  of,  by 
the  cottager  and  amateur,  89,  90 

Cheese,  Dunlop,  70  ; Cheshire,  72;  double 
Gloucester,  74  ; York  cream,  77  ; Ched- 
dar, 90. 

Cheese-making,  56  ; inoculation,  59. 

Cheshire  breed,  the,  25. 


Clullingham,  wild  cattle  at,  11  ; habits  of, 
11,  44.  ’ 

Churns,  forms  in  use,  55  . the  barrel,  56. 

Churning,  Professor  Trail’s  experiments, 
53. 

Codings’  celebrated  bull  Hubback,  41  ; his 
notion  of  crossing,  44. 

Cottagers  and  amateurs,  system  for,  86. 

Cowhouse  for  the  cottager  or  amateur, 
87. 

Cream,  how  obtained,  50  ; qualities  of,  51. 

Cross-breeding,  45  ; instances  of,  in  differ- 
ent animals,  45. 

Dairy,  management  of,  48  ; arrangement 
of  the,  69. 

Dairy  cows,  management  of,  84 

Dairy  system  of  London  and  other  great 
towns,  60  ; mode  of  keeping  the  cows, 
61  ; in  LiverpooJ,  63  ; in  Ayrshire,  70  ; 
in  Devonshire,  75  ; in  Italy,  79;  in  Switz- 
erland, 79  ; in  Holstein,  80. 

Devon  breed,  the,  37  ; their  form  and  habit, 
37  ; their  weight,  37. 

Diseases  of  cattle,  102  ; their  remedies,  103, 
109. 

Dorsetshire  breed,  the,  25. 

Fat-producing  bleeds  of  cattle,  28  ; objec- 
tions to  fattening  considered,  28  ; how  to 
detect  the  qualities,  29  ; ordinary  indica- 
tions of,  30. 

Fattening  animals,  rules  for,  29. 

Gloucestershire  breed,  the,  24  ; their  origin 
and  qualities,  24. 

Grass  lands,  how  best  managed  by  cot- 
tagers and  amateurs,  84. 

Guenon’s  mode  of  ascertaining  the  capa- 
bilities of  miik-producing  cattle,  15. 

Hereford  breed,  the,  33  ; deficient  in  fat- 
tening qualities,  34. 

Highland  Scot,  35  ; its  peculiarities,  36  ^ 
account  of  one  fed  by  the  duke  of  North- 
umberland, 35. 


8 


CONTENTS. 


Kerry  breed,  the,  26  ; their  useful  quali- 
ties, 26. 

I^eieestershire  breed,  the,  24  ; their  cheese- 
producing  powers,  25. 

Linseed  for  cattle,  Mr.  Thompson’s  prep- 
aration of,  102. 

London,  cattle-trade  in,  13. 

Milk-producing  breeds  of  cattle,  13  ; how 
to  detect  their  capabilities,  14  ; the  best 
settled  marks  or  characteristics,  16. 

Milk,  chemical  constituents  of,  48  ; changes 
wnich  it  undergoes,  49  ; varying  prop- 
erties of,  49  ; of  different  animals,  com- 
parison table,  50  ; adulterations  of,  65  ; 
preservation  of,  66  ; effect  of  railways 
on  London  milk,  60. 

Milking  operation  of,  66  ; artificial  mode, 

68. 


Principles  of  cattle  breeding,  40  ; their  aj> 
plication,  40  ; breeding  in  and  in , 43  ; 
crossing,  44. 

Qualities  of  cattle  for  the  dairy  and  the 
butcher  different,  39  ; conformations  and 
qualities  are  co-existent,  39. 

Saw  dust,  value  of,  as  a litter,  102. 

Scottish  Kyloe  breed,  27  ; description  of, 
27  ; hardihood,  27  ; produce,  27. 

Short-horn  or  Durham  breed,  31  ; their 
supposed  origin,  31  ; their  qualities,  31  ; 
Mr.  Dickson’s  description  of,  31  ; weight, 
32  ; the  large  profits  they  realize,  33. 

Sexes  of  animals,  47  ; how  controlled,  47. 

Yorkshire  cow,  the,  21  ; description  of,  22  ; 
selected  mostly  by  dairymen  of  London 
and  other  large  towns,  2S;  produce  of,  22. 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY  AND  CATTLE  FEEDING. 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCTION. 

There  is  not  a race  of  animals  to  which  the  community  is  on  the  whole 
more  indebted,  than  to  cattle.  They  not  only  cultivate  the  land,  but  afford 
food  of  various  kinds,  in  different  circumstances  of  their  existence  ; and  also 
at  death,  supply  very  important  articles  of  clothing  and  utility,  and  are 
amongst  those  animals  to  which  we  owe  by  far  the  most  of  the  comforts  and 
conveniences  of  life. 

Not  to  mention  the  use  of  cattle  in  many  districts  of  country  for  the  pur- 
poses of  labor  : they  supply  during  life,  those  most  important  of  necessa- 
ries, milk  and  cream  ; they  afford  the  luxuries  of  cheese  and  of  butter  ; and 
at  their  death  they  are  the  sources  of  supply  of  the  food  which  has  become 
assooiated  with  our  national  peculiarities,  and  which  is  one  of  the  most 
nutritious  of  the  necessaries  of  life. 

Nor  in  death  does  their  utility  cease.  Their  hide  provides  the  protection 
to  our  feet  and  the  trappings  to  our  horses — their  horns,  combs  and  orna- 
ments— their  hoofs  even,  and  their  waste,  supply  glue  and  gelatine  ; while 
their  bones  afford  the  handles  for  our  knives  and  many  useful  articles  in 
manufacture  ; and  the  refuse  again,  of  these,  returns  to  our  soils  as  a most 
valuable  manure. 

In  the  very  earliest  times  they  seem  to  have  had  attached  to  them  a high 
degree  of  importance.  In  very  primeval  days,  in  Egypt,  then  the  most 
civilized  country  of  the  earth,  divine  honors  were  paid  to  them,  and  they 
had  their  priests  and  their  obsequies.  In  ages  of  more  remote  antiquity 
still,  they  were  among  the  first  offered  and  the  first  accepted  sacrifices ; and 
the  herdsman  was  a patriarchal  king,  as  well  as  was  the  shepherd, — indeed, 
riches  then  consisted  in  possessing  cattle  and  sheep. 

We  have  in  this  country  several  very  distinct  tribes  of  animals — differing 
in  their  features  and  characteristics  in  many  very  important  particulars ; 
some  so  completely  domesticated  as  to  be  affectionate  and  even  companion- 
1* 


10 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


able,  and  others  shy  and  untameable  in  their  nature,  as  the  wild  deer  of  the 
forest ; nor  is  it  easy  to  say  whether  these  latter  are  an  original  race  ; or 
whether  they  are  an  accidental  variety,  permitted  to  live  in  their  native 
wildness  as  a contrast  to  the  gentle  domesticated  creatures  such  as  the  short- 
horns, which  have  been  introduced,  and  which  owe  their  docility  to  conti- 
nental training,  probably  through  a long  series  of  years. 

Tracing  our  domestic  breed  back  to  the  Bison,  or  Wild  Ox,  known  to 
the  ancient  Greeks  and  Romans,  but  driven  away  from  central  Europe,  we 
find  they  now  inhabit  the  wild  morasses  and  forests  of  Lithuania  and  Circas- 
sia, where  they  appear  so  wild  and  ferocious,  as  to  resemble  but  little,  ex- 
cept by  marks  too  unmistakable  to  overlook,  the  quiet  and  gentle  kine, 
which  low  around  our  homes  with  a social  attachment.  Attempts  made  to 
domesticate  these  have  by  no  means  been  successful  ; and  when  partially 
effected,  they  seem  to  have  an  aversion  to  our  domesticated  cattle  which 
is  highly  indicative  of  their  half-educated  state.  The  Bison  is  found  also 
in  British  India,  in  Western  Asia,  and  on  the  American  continent  ;*  the 
race  is  hunted  in  most  of  these  countries  for  their  skins,  and  now  perhaps 
for  their  flesh  and  bones. 

These  Bisons  are  usually  very  formidable  in  numbers,  associate  together 
for  mutual  protection,  move  in  rank  and  file,  observing  almost  military 
discipline,  and  are  led  by  the  largest  and  fiercest  bull.  So  dense  is  their 
column  when  migrating,  that,  if  one  falls  or  halts,  the  whole  herd  will 
march  over  him  and  trample  him  to  death. 

The  Buffalo  is  another  species  of  wild  ox,  and  is  also  somewhat  widely 
diffused,  being  common  in  India,  in  Africa,  and  in  some  of  the  wilder  or 
more  southerly  parts  of  Europe.  It  seems  more  tameable  than  the  Bison, 
and  is  used  for  domestic  purposes  in  the  East  and  in  Africa.  The  native 
African  buffalo  affords  hunting  sport  of  the  wildest  kind,  and,  having  also 
a bull  leader,  will  rush  headlong  against  any  opposing  enemy.  Sometimes 
life  is  sacrificed  in  these  exciting  but  terrible  engagements. 

Now,  though  differing  in  conformation,  the  wild  cattle  of  this  country 
have  many  habits  in  common  with  both  these  animals.  They  are  kept  in 
their  native  purity  in  the  park  of  Lord  Tankerville,  at  Chillingham  in 
Northumberland  ; a few  are  also  kept  in  Scotland,  in  a park  of  the  Duke 
of  Hamilton,  at  Chatelherault,  in  Lanarkshire,  but  the  latter  have  a less 
certain  pedigree.  The  former  nobleman,  in  a communication  to  the  Society 
of  Arts,  gives  a very  interesting  account  of  their  characteristics  and  habits, 
and  assigns  to  them  the  palm  of  being  the  aboriginal  cattle  of  the  island. 
That  the  original  breed,  or  at  any  rate  some  early  breed  of  cattle,  have  been 
very  large  in  size,  is  pretty  evident  from  the  fossil  bones  found  in  bogs  ; but 
a smaller  kind  found  in  Cornwall  also  indicates  a smaller  animal,  having  a 

* There  is  no  connection  between  the  American  Bison  (Buffalo)  and  the  Bison  of  Fu 
rope  and  Asia,  nor  domestic  cattle. — Am  Eo. 


INTRODUCTION. 


1 1 

kind  of  horn  more  resembling  the  cattle  of  the  Duke  of  Hamilton.  Fitz- 
stephen,  who  lived  in  the  twelfth  century,  alludes  to  the  wild  bull  of  the 
woods  as  having  its  residence  in  the  large  forests  near  London.  Guy,  Earl 
of  Warwick,  whose  battle  with  the  wild  Dun  Cow  is  commemorated  by  the 
animal’s  skull  still  preserved  in  Warwick  Castle,  evidently  had  an  encoun- 
ter with  a large  and  monstrous  animal  of  the  wild  breed  ; Hollinshed  also 
speaks  of  Bruce  in  the  fourteenth  century  being  nearly  killed  by  a wild 
bull  in  the  forest  of  Caledon. 

So  recently  as  the  sixteenth  century,  it  seems  these  wild  cattle  were  com- 
mon in  the  Callender  or  Calder  woods. 

The  Chillingham  Park  Cattle  appear  to  retain  all  the  characteristics  of 
wildness  incidental  to  the  untamed  denizens  of  the  forest.  They  hide  their 
young,  feed  during  the  night,  and  conceal  themselves  as  much  as  possible 
during  the  day  in  the  woods,  into  which  they  steal  away  if  they  appear  to 
be  observed.  Their  usual  mode  of  retreat  is  to  get  up  slowly,  set  off  at  first 
in  a walk,  then  a trot,  and  they  seldom  begin  to  gallop  till  they  have 
placed  a hill  or  rising  ground  between  themselves  and  the  observer.  When 
they  come  down  into  the  lower  part  of  the  park,  which  they  do  at  stated 
hours,  they  move  like  a regiment  of  cavalry  in  single  file,  the  bulls  lead- 
ing the  van.  as  in  retreat  it  is  the  bulls  that  bring  up  the  rear.  Another 
peculiarity  is.  that  when  confronted  closely  they  will  at  first  dash  off — re- 
move a few  hundred  yards,  and  then  all  turn  their  faces  and  approach  the 
object  of  their  fear  ; on  any  further  indications  of  approach,  they  rush  off, 
but  to  a smaller  distance,  and  return  nearer  the  object ; and  so  on  every 
occasion  until  the  cause  of  the  disturbance  departs.  They  do  not  seem, 
however,  to  have  any  disposition  to  pursue.  Mr.  Geo.  Cully  states  a fact  re- 
lated to  him  by  Mr.  Bailey,  of  Chillingham,  which  shows  the  native  wild- 
ness of  these  cattle.  He  found  a hidden  calf  two  days  old,  very  lean  and 
feeble,  but,  on  stroking  its  head,  it  nevertheless  got  up,  pawed  with  its  feet 
several  times,  bellowed  out,  and  made  a butt  at  that  gentleman,  which  he 
evaded,  and  it  fell  to  the  ground  with  the  effort,  but  was  so  weak  as  to  be 
unable  to  rise  up  of  itself.  The  whole  herd  became  alarmed,  and  came  to 
the"  rescue  in  great  fury.  So  ferocious  are  the  mothers  when  they  have 
calves,  that  they  will  gore  or  destroy  any  one  who  comes  near  them. 

It  is  a peculiarity  in  the  wild  cattle  also,  that  when  any  one  of  their  num- 
ber seems  to  be  irrecoverably  ill,  the  rest  immediately  fall  upon  it,  and  gore 
it  to  death. 

Now  whether  all  the  great  difference  in  conformation,  color,  characteris- 
tics, &c.,  of  cattle  be  due  to  climate,  breeding  in  and  in,  pasturage,  cross- 
ing, &c.,  there  is  no  doubt  that,  as  far  as  man  is  concerned,  by  far  the  greatest 
victory  he  ha9  won  is  in  the  domestication  of  the  lower  animals.  To  convert 
a wild,  almost  worthless  animal, — except  when  secured  by  the  efforts  of  the 
chase — into  a tame,  gentle,  willing  slave,  affording  diminution  of  human 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


1 2 

labor,  and  yielding,  besides,  a supply  of  convenience,  comfort,  and  luxury 
to  man,  is  no  ordinary  conquest ; l.ut  to  cultivate  one  variety  for  the  milk, 
butter  and  cheese,  and  another  for  its  beef,  is  a victory  of  skill  and  judgment 
by  far  surpassing  in  wonder  the  mere  taming  of  an  animal  to  domestic  habits. 

When  we  revert  back  to  the  origin  of  the  cattle  of  this  country,  and  ask 
ourselves  if  it  be  possible  that  the  long-horned  Craven  cow,  and  the  polled 
Angus — the  gentle,  quiet  short-horn,  and  the  wild  and  ferocious  breed  of 
Chillingham,  can  be  of  the  same  original  ; let  it  be  remembered  that  the 
question  is  one  much  wider,  and  by  far  more  extensive  ! Is  the  rough- 
maned and  bristly  bison,  with  his  large  fore-quarters  and  his  enormous  head, 
of  the  same  original  as  the  neat  and  sprightly  Ayrshire  cow  ? The  ques- 
tion is  by  far  too  extensive  for  discussion  here  ; but  there  does  not  seem 
any  reasonable  doubt  of  the  fact,  that  within  certain  limits,  changes  of  cir- 
cumstances alone  will  have  a great  tendency  to  change  the  conformations 
and  characteristics  of  species.  Thus,  in  cold  countries  whiteness  prevails 
as  a color,  and  fur  or  wool  as  a coat.  In  warmer  climates  the  brown  pre- 
vails as  a color,  and  the  hair  as  a covering,  while  in  those  absolutely  hot, 
the  dun  seems  to  obtain  as  a color,  and  the  down  as  a clothing  ; so  great  is 
the  adaptation  of  organized  beings  to  the  state  in  which  they  are  placed, 
and  so  vast  is  the  expansibility  of  nature,  that  she  can  extend,  or  shorten, 
or  increase,  or  diminish  conformations  so  as  to  be  suitable  to  the  wants  of 
the  animal,  and  to  its  happiness,  and  comfort,  and  life. 

Thus,  though  the  bones  of  the  Bison  and  the  Galloway  may  present  but 
small  distinction,  yet  the  difference  of  skin,  of  mane,  and  of  muscle  would 
make  an  ordinary  observer  start  at  the  idea  that  they  had  a common  origin. 
It  is  possible  that  the  influence  of  pasture  may  lengthen  or  shorten  the 
horns — that  by  breeding  from  long  or  short-horned,  or  from  hornless  ani- 
mals, the  variety  may  be  perpetuated,  till  they  lose,  in  the  course  of  ages, 
many  of  their  original  characteristics.  It  is  impossible,  for  instance,  in  Es- 
sex, to  grow  the  ox  to  the  same  size,  other  things  being  equal,  as  in  the 
county  of  Durham  ; nor  on  the  Ayrshire  Hills  can  he  be  produced  in  the  same 
form  or  stature  as  in  the  Devonshire  Valley  a The  Highland  Scot  is  suited 
to  the  cold  climate  of  the  exposed  and  stormy  north,  the  short-horn  to  the 
lowland  pastures,  and  who  shall  say  that  the  God  of  Nature  has  not  im- 
pressed on  these  created  beings  the  capability  of  adapting  themselves  to 
his  plastic  handy-work,  of  developing  their  tendency  to  follow  the  peculi' 
arities  of  the  situation  in  which  they  are  placed? 

In  all  our  stocks  of  domesticated  animals  we  see  profuse  and  infinite  va- 
riety, and  in  the  races  of  wild  animals  from  which  they  originally  descend- 
ed, we  find  a uniform  color  and  figure,  for  the  most  part,  to  prevail.  Animals 
in  a wild  state  procure  a simple  and  unvaried  food  in  precarious  and  deficient 
quantities,  and  are  exposed  to  the  inclemencies  of  the  seasons.  In  the  im- 
proved state,  all  the  stimuli  of  various  food,  of  warmth,  &c.,  are  afforded  in 


THE  MILK-PRODUCING  BREEDS  OF  CATTLE. 


13 


abundance,  and  the  consequence  is  a luxuriant  growth  and  evolution  of  vari- 
eties, and  the  exhibition  of  all  the  perfections  of  which  each  species  is  capa- 
ble. 

The  importance  of  the  stock  of  cattle  as  affecting  the  wealth  and  well- 
being of  this  country  can  hardly  be  over  estimated.  Mr.  M-Oulloch  esti- 
mates the  entire  number  of  cattle  in  the  United  Kingdom  at  5,220,000  ; if 
we  add  to  this  the  number  imported  in  1847 — or  83,000  in  round  numbers — 
we  shall  have  as  many  as  5,303,000  head  of  cattle  in  the  United  Kingdom 
in  one  year,  which  at  so  small  a price  as  £8  each,  will  give  an  aggregate 
value  of  £42,424,000.  And  this  number  is  by  no  means  an  extreme  one, 
but  quite  the  reverse.  Colquhoun  estimated  the  cattle  in  England  and 
Wales  alone  in  1812  at  5,500,000 ; and  M‘Culloch  founded  his  data  from 
Arthur  Young’s  estimate,  made  in  1799,  and  to  which  he  has  only  added  one- 
third.  As  early  maturity  and  the  extended  quantity  of  food  produced  by 
convertible  husbandry  and  improved  farming,  are  also  to  be  taken  into  ac- 
count, it  is  probable  that  the  cattle  of  the  United  Kingdom  stand  nearer 
seven  millions  than  five,  at  the  present  time. 

To  give  an  idea  of'the  increased  cattle  trade  of  London,  it  is  only  neces- 
sary to  mention  that  in  1732  there  were  only  76,210  cattle  sold  in  Smith- 
field;  in  1830,  a period  of  98  years,  they  had  increased  to  169,907  head  ; 
whereas,  in  1846,  a period  of  16  years  more,  they  reached  210.757  head.  If 
these  had  but  an  average  weight  of  650  lbs.,  it  would  give  a consumption  of 
the  meat  slaughtered  in  London  alone  of  not  less  than  136,992,050  lbs.,  not 
to  mention  the  quantities  of  meat  sent  up  by  the  different  railways,  as  car- 
casses, and  which  trade  is  now  becoming  a great  source  of  profit  in  several 
parts  of  the  country. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  MILK-PRODUCING  BREEDS  OP  CATTLE. 

It  is  usual,  in  works  on  cattle,  to  classify  them  by  the  length  or  shortness 
of  their  horns  ; and.  as  a matter  of  natural  history,  it  may  be  the  most  cor- 
rect mode  of  dividing  or  classifying  the  different  tribes  of  animals  which 
prevail  in  one  or  other  of  the  districts  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland.  But 
for  practical  purposes,  it  is  by  no  means  either  advantageous  or  convenient. 
There  are  certain  breeds  which  have  certain  peculiar  qualities,  and  is  the 
size  of  horn  has  no  connection  whatever  with  those  qualities,  it  is  by  far  the 
most  desirable  course  to  classify  them  according  to  their  properties,  rather 
than  by  any  arbitrary  mark  of  distinction  altogether  unindicative  of  their 
peculiar  capabilities.  There  is,  in  this  country,  a great  variety  of  pasturage 


14 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


from  the  very  rich  to  the  very  poor,  and  from  the  extremely  warm,  to 
the  exposed  and  stormy,  and  in  every  gradation  of  this  range  is  a class  of 
cattle  kept  and  propagated. 

The  great  object  for  which  cattle  are  kept  by  the  farmer  is  either  to  grow 
beef  for  the  market,  or  to  produce  milk,  which  shall  be  converted  into  but- 
ter or  cheese,  or  sold  as  milk,  to  supply  the  great  towns.  Hence  the  former 
selects  the  fat-producing,  and  the  latter  the  milk-producing,  class  of  animals. 
Nature,  as  a general  thing,  has  provided  that  different  races  of  animals,  and 
different  individuals  of  these  races,  are,  more  than  others,  adapted  to  the 
secretion  of  one  or  the  other  of  these  necessary  products.  The  objects  of  the 
two  secretions  are  essentially  different,  and  the  tendencies  and  qualities  ne- 
cessary for  both  are  never  active  in  the  same  animal  at  the  same  time.  For 
while  the  former  is  a reservoir  of  the  carbonaceous  matter  of  the  food,  laid 
by  for  subsequent  use  in  the  respiratory  system,  the  latter  is  the  secretion  of 
a substance  necessary  to  support  the  young  progeny  until  it  is  able  to  sustain 
itself,  and  to  procure  from  the  green  pastures  the  food  there  provided  for  it. 
Hence  to  produce  milk  is,  more  or  less,  the  natural  quality  of  all  kinds  and 
races  of  cattle  ; but  some  will  produce  large  quantities,  but  thin  and  poor  in 
quality  ; some  smaller  quantities,  and  rich  in  oily  matter,  while  others  will 
afford  a small  quantity,  but  abundant  in  solid  matter ; and  the  first  class 
would  be  selected  by  the  milk-man  near  the  populous  city,  the  second  by 
the  dairy-man  whose  product  was  intended  to  be  butter,  and  the  third  by 
the  maker  of  cheese.  There  are  some  tribes  of  cattle  that  are  both  good 
fatteners  and  good  milkers,  but  never  at  the  same  time. 

The  milk-producing  breeds  are  more  widely  diffused  than  any  other,  be- 
cause they  are  capable  of  being  kept  to  advantage  on  qualities  of  herbage 
which  are  inadequate  profitably  to  sustain  the  fat-secreting  breeds.  Grass- 
land on  the  clay  soils  on  the  sides  of  the  uplands,  and  even  on  the  poorer 
sands,  is  quite  adequate  to  supply  the  means  of  making  butter  or  cheese  ; 
but  it  will  very  ill  repay  the  person  who  attempts  to  feed  cattle  on  herbage 
so  inferior  ; while  the  rich  alluvial  feeding  pastures  which  generally  skirt 
the  rivers  are  far  more  profitably  employed  in  raising  summer  beef,  than  in 
the  production  of  milk,  of  cheese,  or  of  butter.  Some  races  of  long-horns, 
of  short-horns,  or  of  middle  horns,  or  even  of  polled  animals,  are  to  be  placed 
amongst  the  one  class  we  have  alluded  to,  and  some  amongst  the  other,  and 
we  prefer  arranging  the  breeds  most  celebrated  for  the  quantity  or  quality 
of  their  milk  under  the  first  head,  and  reserve  the  second  to  the  races  with 
special  aptitude  for  fattening. 

The  question  arises  very  naturally  how  far  it  is  possible,  by  external  con- 
formations of  the  individual  animal,  to  detect  its  capabilities  for  the  secre  tion 
of  milk.  There  are  instances  in  every  breed  where  it  is  evident  nature  has 
been  more  bountiful,  or  more  niggardly,  in  bestowing  the  qualities  calculated 
to  produce  the  secretion  for  which  the  race  may  be  celebrated  ; and  there 


THE  MILK- PRODUCING  BREEDS  OF  CATTLE. 


15 


are,  doubtless,  marks,  well  kuown  to  the  dairy-man,  which  seldom  fail  to 
indicate  the  power  of  the  animal  in  the  range  of  qualities  peculiar  to  his 
race.  On  the  continent  of  Europe  this  has  been  professed  to  be  carried  to 
a very  minute  extent.  Francois  Guenon,  a Frenchman,  professed  to  have 
found,  by  close  observation,  a mode  of  deciding  authoritatively,  not  only 
the  quantity  and  quality  of  milk  which  would  be  given  by  any  particular 
cow,  but  also  the  period  for  which  she  would  retain  her  milk  after  calving, 
and  this  he  proposed  to  do  by  external  appearances  alone,  and  these  of  a 
somewhat  arbitrary  kind. 

It  is  not  within  the  compass  of  this  little  work  to  give  anything  like  a 
description  of  the  mode  he  adopted,  now  made  public,  but  the  foundation  is 
his  classification  of  all  kinds  of  cattle  into  eight  classes  or  families  ; each 
family  is  divided  into  three  sections,  according  to  size  only,  and  each  sec- 
tion is  again  subdivided  into  eight  orders. 


CLASS  I.  FLANDRINES  OF  GUENON’S  SYSTEM.* 

The  distinguishing  marks  by  which  he  divides  these  are — 1.  The  Gravure, 
commencing  at  the  udder,  and  extending  to  the  bearing ; 2.  The  Epis,  a soft 
brush  of  hair  upon  the  animal  ; and  3,  Contrepoil,  or  hair  growing  the  con- 
trary way.  The  peculiarities  of  these  marks  constitute  the  distinction  be- 
tween the  families  and  orders.  Thus,  if  the  gravure  be  large,  the  reservoir 

*The  system  of  Guenon  is  very  extensive  and  complicated  ; its  extent,  however,  he 
claims,  only  covers  the  various  gravures  which  exist  in  cows.  The  variations  of  the 
gravure  are  twenty-four  in  number;  beside  the  exceptional  ones,  denominated  bas- 
tard, which  are  indicated  by  particular  marks  on  the  gravures,  and  the  cows  are 
distinguished  by  the  earlier  period  at  which  they  go  dry  ; more  especially  if  they  be 
got  in  calf.  These  gravures  are  of  eight  different  kinds  corresponding  to  the  eignt  dif- 
ferent classes  ; and  there  are  eight  orders  of  each  class,  each  numbered  one  to  eight.  In 
all  the  classes,  number  one  is  superior,  and  number  eight  inferior,  and  the  degree  of  ex- 
cellence varies  with  the  number,  the  higher,  the  less  the  excellence.  The  same  varia- 
tion takes  place  in  the  orders,  tl  e first  being  better  than  the  eighth.  But  the  superior 
orders  of  the  different  classes  are  better  milkers  than  the  inferior  orders  in  the  superior 
classes. — Am.  Ed. 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


of  milk  will  bo  large,  and  the  produce  abundant ; if  it  be  formed  of  fine  hair 
if  the  skin  be  yellowish,  and  if  a kind  of  bran  powder  comes  off  the  skin  be 
of  that  color,  they  are  all  signs  of  a good  milker.  The  rationale  of  this  is, 
that  this  gravure  is  but  a continuation  of,  and  corresponds  with,  the  lactifer- 
ous vessels  under  the  belly  of  the  animal.  These  “epis,”  he  states,  corre- 
spond with  the  reservoir  of  milk,  and  are  tufts  of  hair  growing  the  wrong 
way  on  the  right  or  left  of  the  bearing.  The  largest  epis  indicates  the  most 
rapid  loss  of  milk.  The  contrepoil,  or  hair  growing  the  wrong  way  on  the 
gravure,  amidst  that  which  grows  upwards,  shows  a default  in  the  produc- 
tion of  milk,  even  if  the  gravure  be  large.  We  give  a fac-simile  of  his 
class  1.  Flandrines.  So  far  is  a very  general  description  of  a system 
which  he  invests  with  minutiae  of  no  ordinary  kind,  and  it  is  so  precise  and 
prolix  that  it  requires  a series  of  some  score  of  plates  to  show  the  variations 
of  family,  class,  and  order. 

Without  definitively  pronouncing  that  there  is  no  merit  in  his  observa- 
tions, it  seems  perfectly  clear  that  many  of  his  indications  are  of  a character 
generally  indicative  of  a quality,  but  are  pushed  far  beyond  their  legiti- 
mate objects ; for  while  a wide  capacity  of  upper  udder — a fine  hair — a 
yellow  scurf,  are  somewhat  too  indefinite  to  classify  very  precisely,  they  are 
just  the  points  which  may  indicate  the  fineness  of  quality,  and  a large  lac- 
tiferous capacity,  which  may  add  to  the  physiological  signs  by  which  a 
milking-cow  is  judged  by  the  practical  grazier.* 

Beauty  of  form  is  about  the  last  qualification  in  a good  dairy  cow.  Sym- 
metry to  a breeder  is  no  criterion  of  milking  qualities.  The  parallelogram 
is  the  beau  ideal  of  a fattened  ox  in  section,  and  a cylinder  is  that  of  his  su- 
perficies— thus  exhibiting  the  essence  of  roundness , — whereas  the  very  con- 
verse is  the  perfection  of  the  milker,  i.  e.  l- flatness.' The  following  are 
the  best  settled  marks  or  characteristics  of  a milking  cow.  Head  small 
and  fine,  eye  bright  and  full,  but  with  a quiet  and  placid  expression,  neck 
thin  and  deep,  which  gives  it  an  appearance  of  hollowness  ; shoulder  and 
breast  narrow,  but  projecting  ; ribs  flat ; rumps  broad,  and  tapering  down 
to  the  knee-joint,  owing  to  the  thighs  being  thin  ; tail  small ; udder  large 
and  round,  with  teats  well  formed,  tapering  to  the  end,  and  at  a moderate 
distance  from  each  other  ; thin  in  its  skin,  and  with  plenty  of  skin  above  ; 
its  fore-teats  round  and  full,  and  with  a large  subcutaneous,  or  milk-vein. 
There  must,  above  all,  be  kindliness  of  touch,  indicative  at  once  of  good 
breeding  and  of  quiet  disposition.  This,  with  a quiet,  calm,  serene  temper, 
are  indications  of  milk-producing  animals,  which,  where  health  is  present, 
are  almost  infallible  criterions. 

* Guenon’s  system  lias  been  much  spread  and  tried  in  America,  and  has  progress- 
ively obtained  credit  and  reliance  from  dairy-men  and  breeders.  His  work,  translated 
into  English,  may  be  had  of  C.  M.  Saxton. — Am.  Ed. 

f A cow  of  a good  fatting  tribe,  which  is  a good  milker,  will  show  hin  and  flat  in 
milking,  but  when  dry  and  fed  up  will  show  full  and  round. — Am.  Ed. 


THE  AYRSHIRE  BREED. 


17 


The  next  step  is  to  describe  some  of  the  most  prominent  features  of  the 
best  kind  of  cattle  for  milk  producing,  and  but  a few  of  the  best  will  be 
selected  of  the  many  varieties  of  cattle. 

THE  AYRSHIRE  BREED. 

These  are  a valuable  breed  of  middle-horned  cattle,  exceeding,  perhaps, 
all  in  all,  any  breed  of  dairy  cows  in  the  kingdom.  Small  in  size — their 
want  of  symmetry  is  not  so  obvious — affording  milk  of  a very  rich  quality, 
and  somewhat  oily ; they  also  fatten  tolerably,  for  when  the  butyraceous 
deposit  is  stopped  by  drying,  the  system  soon  accustoms  itself  to  secret 
fat,  which  they  soon  acquire  on  a pasture  of  inferior  quality  to  that  re- 
quired by  more  tender  animals. 

There  is  no  description  of  the  race  equal  to  that  of  Mr.  Aiton,  whose 
work  on  Dairy  Husbandry  so  far  exceeds  any  other,  that  it  is  abundantly 
quoted  to  the  present  day.  “Head  small,  but  rather  long  and  narrow  at 
the  muzzle  ; the  eye  small,  but  smart  and  lively ; the  horns  small,  clear, 
crooked,  and,  at  their  roots,  placed  at  a considerable  distance  from  each 
other  ; neck  long  and  slender,  tapering  towards  the  head  with  no  loose  skin 
below  ; shoulders  thin  ; fore-quarters  light ; hind-quarters  large  ; back 
straight,  broad  behind ; the  joints  rather  loose  and  open  ; carcass  deep,  and 
pelvis  capacious,  and  wide  over  the  hips,  with  round  fleshy  buttocks ; tail 
long  and  small ; legs  small  and  short,  with  firm  joints  ; udder  capacious, 
broad  and  square,  stretching  forward,  neither  fleshy,  low  hung,  nor  loose  ; 
the  milk  veins  large  and  prominent ; teats  short,  all  pointing  outwards,  and 
at  a considerable  distance  from  each  other  ; skin  thin  and  soft  ; hair  soft 
and  woolly.  The  head,  bones,  horns,  and  all  parts  of  least  value  small,  and 
the  general  figure  compact  and  well-proportioned.”  Such  was  Mr.  Aiton’s 
description,  and  with  the  exception  of  thickness  of  buttock,  it  will  not 
inappropriately  describe  the  present  Ayrshire  cow.  There  are  two  other  cha- 
racteristics which  seem  so  thoroughly  belonging  to  this  breed,  as  such,  that 
they  ought  not  to  be  passed  over.  The  one  is  the  black  muzzle,  and  the 
other  is  the  red,  which  seems  to  be  the  natural  color  of  the  race,  arranged 
not  in  considerable  quantities,  but  in  blots  or  patches,  and  so  the  animals 
generally  present  a sort  of  checked  aspect  of  pale  red  and  red  and  white. 

The  produce  of  these  cows  in  milk  and  butter  is  very  great.  An  Ayrshire 
cow  will  give  from  600  to  800  gallons  of  milk  in  the  course  of  the  year,  and 
as  much  as  five  gallons  per  day  is  by  no  means  uncommon  for  three  months 
after  calving.  This,  however,  falls  from  Colonel  Fullarton’s  estimate,  in  his 
Agriculture  of  Ayrshire,  when  he  states  that  though  the  Ayrshire  cow  will 
not,  when  fat,  weigh  more  than  twenty  to  forty  English  stones,  “it  is  not 
uncommon  for  these  small  cows  to  give  from  twenty-four  to  thirty-four 
English  quarts  of  milk  daily  during  the  summer  months,  while  some  of 
them  will  give  as  far  as  forty  quarts.’7 

The  milk  is  also  very  productive  of  butter  Three  gallons  and  a half  of 


18 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 

such  milk  will  yield  u pound  and  a half  of  butter  ; so  that  as  much  as 
lb?,  of  butter  will  be  yielded  by  au  Ayrshire  cow  ; and  it  is  no  uncommon 
thing  to  have  eight  or  nine  pounds  of  butter  produced  from  one  of  these 
cows  for  some  weeks  after  calving.  Some  twenty-six  gallons  of  milk 
will  afford  fourteen  pounds  of  cheese,  or  a good  cow  will  yield  some  thirty- 
five  stone  of  cheese  per  annum,  which,  taken  at  10s.  per  stone,  will  produce 
in  this  article  alone,  as  much  as  £18  per  annum. 

It  has  been  questioned  whether  the  rich  districts  of  Ayrshire  ought  to  be 
occupied  with  this  breed  of  cattle.  They  are  said  to  be  more  suitable  for 
cottiers  than  for  graziers,  and  that  the  latter  ought  to  direct  their  attention 
to  feedi  : the  short-horn,  while  the  former  should  combine  dairy-farming 
only,  with  the  occupation  of  a laborer.  To  this  it  may  be  answered  that 
with  the  cold  rains  so  prevalent  in  that  county,  it  is  pretty  certain  that 


THE  AYRSHIRE  COW. 


the  second-rate  pasturage  of  much  of  the  grass  land  is  more  suitable  for  the 
dairy-cow*,  than  for  fattening  the  short-horn. 

Nor  have  the  improvements  in  the  breed  of  Ayrshire  cattle  increased 
their  milking  qualities.  To  breed  what  wrould  sell  in  England,  and  what 
would  feed  as  steers,  has  been  too  much  an  object ; and  as  the  larger  breed 
of  Ayrshire  cattle  are  more  profitable  for  the  market,  and  the  smaller  for 
the  dairy,  ;he  former  have  been  somewhat  more  encouraged. 

There  is  another  peculiarity  of  the  Ayrshire  cows  which  is  deserving  of 
notice.  They  hold  to  their  milk  to  a very  late  period.  They  are  cultivated 


1 II  in  ALDERNEY  BREED. 


19 


and  educated  to  give  milk.  Nature  would  teacb  an  animal  to  give  a supply 
as  long  as  its  calf  needed  that  nutritious  assistance  ; but  so  far  have  the 
milking  qualities  of  the  Ayrshire  cow  been  brought  out,  that  in  some 
instances  they  have  been  known  to  yield  milk  all  the  year  round,  and  to 
retain  it  up  to  an  advanced  age,  though  they  are  generally  removed  at 
four  or  five  years  old.* 


THE  ALDERNEY  BREED. 

Common  consent  has  given  the  name  of  Alderney  to  the  Channel  Island 
breed  of  cattle,  so  long  celebrated  for  the  quantity  of  milk  they  give  in  pro- 
portion to  their  size  ; but  above  all,  for  the  extraordinary  richness  of  its 
quality.  But  there  is  every  probability  that  these  cattle  were  originally  a 
Norman  breed,  imported  and  improved  in  Jersey,  and  then  sent  to  Alderney ; 
and  thus  a common  stock,  famous  far  indeed  beyond  the  milk-cows  of 
Normandy,  have  been  produced,  which  are  considered  so  valuable  in  this 
country,  as  to  produce  prices  varying  from  £20  to  £30. 


THE  ALDERNEY  COW. 


* As  a whole  the  Ayrshires  have  failed  in  America.  Here  the  summers  are  dry  and 
hot,  and  the  winters  cold  and  frozen  In  Ayrshire  the  summers  are  moist  and  cool, 
and  the  winters  mild  and  rainy.  The  Ayrshire  cow  does  not  endure  heat  or  extremes. — 
Am.  Ed. 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


viO 

The  produce  of  these  small  animals,  both  in  milk  and  butter,  is  very  great, 
and  may  be  taken,  in  fair  specimens,  at  twelve  quarts  of  milk  daily,  and 
ten  pounds  of  butter  in  the  week,  during  the  months  of  April,  May,  June, 
July,  and  August  5 and  instances  are  recorded  of  cows  giving  twenty  quarts 
of  milk  in  the  twenty-four  hours,  and  yielding  as  much  as  fourteen  pounds 
of  butter  per  week ! From  this  it  is  clear  that  the  cream  is  of  very  rich 
quality  ; the  milk  is  itself  superior  to  much  of  the  town-made  cream — the 
cream  almost  resembles  cream  cheese.  It  is  considered  too  rich  by  many 
persons  for  making  cheese  ; but  instances  are  recorded  of  successful  cheese- 
making from  this  milk.  M.  Le  Feuvre,  of  La  Hogue,  succeeded  in  making 
cheese  of  a very  superior  quality  from  this  fine  milk,  equal  indeed  to  double 
Gloucester.  Fourteen  quarts  of  milk  would  give  a pound  and  a half  of 
cheese  ; and  the  whey  or  drainings  of  twenty  pounds  of  this  cheese  would 
produce  four  pounds  of  butter.  Compared  with  the  milk  of  any  other  cows 
celebrated  for  dairy  purposes,  that  of  the  Alderney  is  very  superior.  An 
experiment  was  made,  in  the  months  of  May,  June,  July,  and  August, 
, between  eight  Alderney  and  eight  Kerry  cows.  In  the  first  month,  tha 
Alderneys  gave  25  per  cent,  of  cream  against  10  per  cent,  of  the  Kerrys ; 
in  June,  20  per  cent,  against  10 : in  July,  23  per  cent,  against  10  ; and  in 
August,  16  per  cent,  against  13  ; giving  an  average  of  some  hundred  per 
cent,  more  cream  than  the  Kerrys — a race  of  cows  somewhat  celebrated  for 
dairy  qualities. 

But  more  : three  pints  of  cream  from  the  Alderneys  produced  1 lb.  8J  oz. 
of  butter ; from  the  Kerrys,  1 lb.  4$  oz.  And  this  was  taken  in  the  month 
of  August,  when  it  will  be  seen  the  milk  of  the  Alderneys  was  somewhat 
falling  off.  The  experiment  was  made  by  Mr.  White,  on  the  farm  of  the 
Hon.  R.  Clive  of  Oakley  Park,  and  deserves  every  credit,  as  it  seems  to 
have  been  carefully  and  intelligently  made.  / 

We  are  indebted  to  Colonel  le  Couteur  for  almost  all  we  know  of  this 
breed  of  cattle.  In  many  respects  she  resembles  the  Ayrshire  cow  ; and, 
indeed,  so  close  is  the  resemblance,  that  Mr.  Quayle,  in  his  “ Agricultural 
Survey  of  Jersey,”  communicated  to  the  Board  of  Agriculture,  states  that 
“ the  Ayrshire  was  a cross  between  the  short-horned  breed  and  the 
Alderney.” 

As  the  qualities  of  the  Alderney  breed  of  cattle  are  exclusively  milk-pro- 
ducing, we  expect  to  find  anything  but  beauty  of  form ; and,  indeed,  until 
within  the  last  twenty  rears,  a more  rude,  misshapen  animal  it  is  difficult 
to  conceive.  Possessing  cattle  superior  to  others  for  the  richness  of  their 
milk,  a hardihood  and  endurance  extremely  great,  and  being  sustained  by 
the  inferior  herbage  the  island  produced,  the  Channel  Islanders  were  satis- 
fied with  their  ungainly  form.  They  might  be  thus  described : — Large 
cheeks,  thin  hollow  neck,  hollow  back,  thin  hams,  flat  sides,  long  between 
hip  and  ribs,  crooked  legs,  high  shoulders,  drooping  rump,  tapering  chest. 


THE  YORKSHIRE  COW. 


21 


The  specimens  of  improved  forms  of  cattle  which  began  to  receive  the 
attention  of  agricultural  societies,  tended  to  call  attention  to  the  improve- 
ment of  the  Alderney  breed  ; and  hence  a society  sprang  up,  under  the 
presidency  of  General  Thornton,  and  by  selecting  the  best  specimens,  drew 
up  a scale  of  nine  articles,  and  to  each  of  these  attached  a number  of  points 
— thirty  of  which  were  assumed  to  be  perfection  in  a cow.  These  are 
much  more  definite,  and  we  think  practical,  than  those  of  Mr.  Guenon ; and 
we  cannot  help  giving  them,  because  they  indicate  the  proper  criterion  of 
the  improved  Alderney  cow.  They  are  for  cows  and  heifers : — 

Points. 

I.  Breed,  on  both  parents’  sides,  reputed  for  producing  rich 
and  yellow  butter, 4 

II.  Head  small,  fine,  and  tapering  ; eye  full  and  lively  ; muz- 

zle fine , and  encircled  with  white;  horns  polished,  a 
little  crumpled,  tipped  with  black  ; ears  small,  of  an 
orange  color  within, 8 

III.  Back  straight,  from  the  withers  to  the  setting  on  of  the 

tail ; chest  deep  and  nearly  of  a line  with  the  belly,  . 4 

IV.  Hide  thin,  movable,  but  not  too  loose,  well  covered  with 

fine  soft  hair,  of  good  color, 2 

Y.  Barrel  hooped  and  deep,  well-ribbed  home  (having  but 
little  space  between  the  ribs  and  hips) ; tail  fine,  hang- 
ing two  inches  below  the  hocks, 4 

VI.  Fore-legs  straight  and  fine  5 thighs  full  and  long,  close 
together  when  viewed  from  behind ; hind  legs  short, 
and  bones  rather  fine ; hoop  small ; hind  legs  not  to 

cross  in  walking,  2 

VII.  Udder  full,  well  up  behind ; teats  large,  and  squarely 
placed,  being  wide  apart ; milk  veins  large  and  swell- 
ing,   4 

VIII.  Growth,  . 1 

IX.  General  appearance, 2 

Perfection  for  cows  and  heifers,  . . .31 

The  engraving  of  the  perfect  Alderney,  given,  may  be  taken  as  a fair 
specimen  not  only  of  the  most  perfect  animal  which  the  above  scale  aims  at 
indicating,  but  will  also  mark  the  great  improvement  in  the  style  of  this 
breed  of  cattle  ; and  will,  so  far,  incidentally  mark  the  improved  character 
of  the  other  breeds  of  cattle  in  the  country. 

THE  YORKSHIRE  COW. 

Having  given  instances  of  milk-producing  cows  from  the  middle-horn  and 
crumpled-horn  breeds,  we  place  next  one  of  the  short-horned  class  5 not, 
Indeed,  the  high-bred  Durham  short-horn,  but  a large  capacious  animal 


oo 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


possessing  several  of  its  qualities,  and  giving  a large  quantity  of  milk,  with 
as  much  aptitude  to  fatten  as  is  consistent  with  the  production  of  milk,  and 
hence  is  selected  by  the  dairymen  of  large  towns,  and  especially  of  London, 
for  the  supply  of  milk  for  a given  period,  and  then  to  be  fatted  on  distillers’ 
refuse,  and  other  waste  matters  which  a town  will  afford,  and  thus  give  a 
double  pay  to  the  dairyman. 

The  Yorkshire  cow  is  of  much  larger  size  than  either  of  those  we  have 
been  considering,  and,  when  fat,  will  weigh  from  sixty  to  eighty  stone.  Her 
head  is  fine,  and  somewhat  small ; there  is  a serene  placidity  of  eye,  which 
shows  a mild  and  gentle  disposition,  tending  alike  to  produce  fat  and  milk. 
The  horns  are  small  and  white,  the  muzzle  without  black  spots  ; the  breast 
deep  and  prominent,  but  that  and  the  shoulders  thin  ; the  neck  somewhat 
narrow,  but  full  below  the  shoulders,  and  without  any  loose  skin ; the 
barrel  somewhat  round  ; the  belly  capacious  ; milk-vein  large  ; back  per- 
fectly straight ; rump  wide,  aDd  flat  as  a table  ; tail  small,  and  set  on  so  that 
there  is  almost  a straight  line  from  the  tail  to  the  head.  The  prevailing 
color  is  roan,  or  red  or  white  ; and  sometimes  white,  with  the  tips  of  the 
ears  red.  The  thighs  are  thin  ; but  the  legs  are  straight  and  somewhat 
short.  The  udder  is  very  large  and  muscular,  projecting  forward,  well 
filled  up  behind,  and  so  broad  as  to  give  the  cow  the  appearance  of  a waddle 
in  her  walking.  Indeed,  her  qualities  are  not  inappropriately  described  in 
some  doggerel  lines  often  quoted ; and  two  of  the  verses  we  shall  venture 
to  give,  as  most  aptly  descriptive  of  the  Yorkshire  cow : — 

“ She’s  broad  in  her  ribs,  and  long  in  her  rump, 

A straight  and  flat  back  without  ever  a hump  ; 

She’s  wide  in  her  hips  and  calm  in  her  eyes, 

She’s  fine  in  her  shoulders,  and  thin  in  her  thighs. 

She’s  light  in  her  neck,  and  small  in  her  tail, 

She’s  wide  in  her  breast,  and  good  at  the  pail  ; 

She’s  fine  in  her  bone,  and  silky  of  skin  ; 

She’s  a grazier’s  without,  and  a butcher’s  within.” 

The  engraving  on  the  next  page  represents  a Yorkshire  Cow,  and  is  a fair 
specimen  of  a short-horn  Yorkshire  Cow,  without  pretensions  to  pedigree — 
a sample  of  the  kind  purchased  by  the  dairymen  of  London. 

The  quantity  of  milk  given  by  these  cows  by  far  exceeds  that  of  any 
others,  though  less  perhaps  than  that  of  some  others  in  proportion  to  her 
size.  The  writer  has  had  instances  where  as  much  as  thirty  quarts  per  day, 
in  summer,  have  been  given.  The  distended  udder  has  so  swollen  before 
calving — that  she  was  obliged  to  be  milked  several  days  before  she  calved  • 
and,  after  calving,  had  to  be  milked  three  times  a-day,  for  fear  of  the  con- 
sequences of  an  over-distended  udder.  She,  moreover,  gave  a large  quantity 
of  butter  as  well  as  milk,  and  soon  after  calving  she  has  given  fifteen  pounds 
per  week.  When  the  Yorkshire  cow  is  purchased  for  the  London  dairies, 


THE  YORKSHIRE  BREED. 


23 


usually  after  her  third  calf,  her  milk  changes  its  character.  Rich  ia  her  na- 
tive pastures  in  butyraceous  matter,  th^  object  in  London,  Liverpool,  and 
the  large  towns,  is  rather  to  increase  the  quantity,  than  to  improve  the 
quality  of  the  milk,  hence  they  are  fed  with  brewers’  grains,  boiled  linseed, 
Ac.,  &c .,  and  the  out-door  exercise  is  restricted,  so  that  their  powers  of 
secretion  are  all  converged  to  the  production  of  milk  alone.  Mr.  Laycock, 


THE  YORKSHIRE  COW. 


in  his  London  dairy,  which  is  supplied  by  Yorkshire  cows,  retains  no  cow 
which  does  not  yield  two  gallons  of  milk  per  day,  and  the  average  of  his 
dairy  is  as  much  as  nine  quarts  daily. 

All  these  things  being  considered,  and  taking  into  account  the  carcass 
value  of  the  cow  after  she  has  yielded  her  milk,  it  is  not  too  much  to  say 
that  there  is  no  breed  of  cows  so  highly  gifted  with  milk-secreting  quali- 
ties, which  are  also  so  profitable  as  the  Yorkshire  breed. 

Having  somewhat  minutely  considered  the  three  leading  breeds  of  dairy 
cattle, — the  cheese-producing  Ayrshire,  the  butter-secreting  Alderney,  and 
the  milk-giving  Yorkshire, —it  only  remains  to  glance  at  the  breeds  or  crosses 
which  prevail  in  the  principal  dairy  districts  of  the  country,  for  as  types  of 
this  class  of  cattle,  the  three  breeds  above  named  may  be  taken  as  perfect. 


24 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY, 


THE  GLOUCEf-  rERSHIRE  BREED. 

This  is  more  a mixture  of  the  sevei  al  breeds  of  the  country,  long-horn  and 
middle-horn,  than  any  distinctive  race, — the  old  Gloucestershire  cow  being 
nearly  extinct.  The  various  crosses  to  which  dairy  cattle  have  been  sub- 
jected have  obliterated  all  traces  of  the  original  race,  but  early  crosses 
with  the  long-horned  breed  have  somewhat  prevailed.  The  Devons  have 
also  been  used  as  a cross  to  give  a more  kindly  disposition  to  fatten,— the 
Durham  short-horns  have  also  occasionally  been  tried. 

THE  LEICESTERSHIRE  BREED. 

The  old  breed  of  this  country  have  had  a more  successful  struggle  for  exist- 
ence, than  the  native  breed  of  Gloucestershire.  It  was  here  that  Blakewell 


exerted  his  talents  to  improve  the  long-horned  breed  of  cattle,  and,  though 
he  succeeded  in  removing  the  coarseness  from  these  animals,  and  increased 
their  tendency  to  fatten,  it  appears  he  did  not  attain  the  object  of  either 
establishing  or  improving  their  dairying  qualities  ; and  hence  his  breed  is 
but  little  prized  by  tl Leicestershire  dairymen,  who  prefer  the  coarser  and 


THE  KERRY  BREED. 


25 


larger  animals,  which  give  large  quantities  of  good  r i.k,  to  those  which 
have  less  milk-giving  capabilities,  but  are  more  suitable  for  the  grazier.* 

The  yield  of  cheese,  rather  than  that  of  milk,  is  the  object  of  the  dairymen 
of  Leicestershire.  A good  cow  will  give  some  400  pounds  of  cheese,  and 
produce  as  many  gallons  of  milk  in  the  year,  allowing  for  the  seven 
weeks  when  she  is  supposed  to  be  dry.  In  some  districts  the  cows  are  kept 
foi  six,  or  seven,  and  even  more  years,  especially  when  they  are  good  cheese 
producers ; for  it  is  of  more  consequence  to  the  farmer  to  have  a cow  which, 
for  six  years,  gives  him  an  annual  supply  of  the  stock  in  trade  of  his  farm — 
his  cheese — than  to  get  a few  pounds  more  or  less  when  she  is  sold.  Indeed 
a smaller  difference  really  takes  place  than  may  be  at  first  imagined.  The 
rich  Leicestershire  grass  enables  the  farmer,  on  a large  scale  at  least,  to  sell 
off  his  cattle  fat,  which  would  have  been  disposed  of  for  the  dairy.  Hence, 
as  old  cows  of  any  kind  are  not  expected  to  be  very  valuable  graziers,  he 
does  not  expect  her  to  do  wonders  ; and  if  he  succeeds  in  getting  her  moder- 
ately fat,  he  is  satisfied  to  take  a smaller  price  per  stone  for  her  beef  than  is 
received  for  a primer  animal. 

THE  CHESHIRE  BREED, 

Is,  like  that  of  Gloucestershire,  or  even  more  so,  becoming  rapidly  extinct. 
The  old  breed  of  the  county  was,  like  that  of  most  dairy  districts,  a long- 
horned variety ; but  the  vicinity  of  the  large  town  dairy  system,  introduced 
into  the  country  by  the  springing  up  of  large  towns,  has  brought  here,  as 
elsewhere,  the  short-horn  cow  of  Yorkshire  into  competition  with  the  na- 
tive breed;  the  extra  quantity  of  milk  they  produce  has  been  regarded  some- 
what more  than  its  quality , and,  in  consequence,  the  character  of  the  Cheshire 
cheese  has  somewhat  deteriorated  in  the  markets. 

THE  DORSETSHIRE  BREED. 

In  this,  as  in  most  dairy  districts,  milk  is  rather  an  object  than  either  form  or 
fat,  and  hence  a somewhat  coarse  ill-shapen  class  of  cattle  prevails.  The 
cattle  are  of  a long- horn  breed,  large,  and  coarse,  principally  of  a red  color, 
with  flat  chests  and  buttocks.  Attempts  have  been  made  to  cross  this  also 
with  the  Devon,  Hereford,  and  Ayrshire  breeds,  but  this  does  not  appear  to 
have  succeeded  ; and  the  only  advance  the  dairymen  have  been  enabled  to 
make  in  this  country  has  been  to  introduce  one  Alderney  to  a dairy  for  every 
ten  or  twelve  of  the  native  breed ; this  is  found  to  have  a very  beneficial 
tendency,  to  increase  the  quantity  of  cream,  and  to  improve  much  the  quali- 
ty of  the  butter. 

* Some  few  herds  of  high  bred  New  Leicester  employed  in  the  chee  e dairy,  are 
still  found,  one  of  which  may  be  named,  that  Mr.  Warner,  near  Coventry  ; and 
they  have  a high  feeding  capacity  as  well  as  milking  capacity. — Am.  F.d 
2 


26 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


THE  KERRY  BREED. 

Crossing  the  Irish  Channel  there  is  a hardy  small-sized  cjw  celebrated  as  a 
cottier’s  dairy  cow — the  neat  pet-like  cow  of  Kerry.  Her  placid  counte- 


THE  KERRY  COW. 

nance,  patient,  meek  deportment,  tine  head  and  legs,  her  small  tail,  flat 
shoulders,  breast,  and  quarters,  and  her  skinny  udder  and  large  milk- vein 
bespeak  the  characteristics  of  the  milker,  and  well  they  may,  for  she  is  a 
treasure  to  the  cottage  farmer ! — so  hardy,  that  she  will  live  where  other 
cattle  will  starve  ; she  will  yield  milk  at  the  expense  of  her  own  muscles, 
nay,  will  yield  it  abundantly  when  they  seem  all  but  gone  ; at*  will  give  it 
also  of  quality  so  rich,  that  she  is  a perfect  machine  for  converting  the  hard- 
est and  coarsest  cattle-food  into  rich  and  nutritious  milk  and  butter. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  expatiate  on  all  the  crosses  or  breeds,  more  or  less 
distinct,  which  prevail  in  the  dairy  districts  of  this  country,  nor  does  it  come 
within  the  range  of  this  treatise  to  examine  the  qualities  of  the  foreign 
breeds.  We  will,  however,  close  with  a short  description  of  one  more  ani- 
mal, which  may  be  classed,  after  all,  as  a sort  of  milking  cow.  We  mean 
the 


FAT-PRODUCING  BREEDS  OF  CATTLE. 


27 


SCOTCH  WEST  HIGHLAND  BREED, KYLOE  BREED 

So  called  from  the  fact  of  their  having  crossed  the  Kyles , or  ferries,  with 
which  the  Highlands  of  Scotland  abound.  These  were,  it  is  said  by  Parkin- 
son, the  models  Bakewell  had  in  his  eye  for  the  improvement  of  the  Leices- 
tershire breed,  and  had  he  known  more  of  them  in  the  early  stages,  they 
might  have  had  their  share  in  the  crossings  for  improving  the  Dishley  herd. 
They  may  be  considered  among  the  best  of  the  middle-horned  race  of  cattle — 
having  their  long  rumps , Zorns,  and  crops,  with  but  a moderate  amount  of  offal. 
And  as  length  in  these  parts  is  thoroughly  consistent  with  thinness  of  chest, 
buttocks,  and  neck,  it  is  not  improbable  that  improvements  in  this  direction 
would  enable  the  dairyman  to  have  a rich  milk-secreting  animal,  with  a 
considerable  aptitude  to  fatten  and  form  flesh  on  the  most  valuable  parts, 
when  she  came  into  the  hands  of  the  grazier. 

The  hardihood  of  the  Kyloe  makes  up  for  the  wildness  of  her  nature. 
She  can  resist  a cold  blast  under  which  a delicate  lowland  dairy-cow  would 
perish.  She  will  consume  the  small  and  stunted  grasses  which  appear 
among  the  heath,  the  mosses,  and  even,  in  winter,  sometimes  the  sea- weed 
itself.  In  wunter,  when  the  severity  of  the  weather  prevents  their  obtaining 
their  food  from  the  morass  and  the  moor,  they  are  occasionally  assisted  by  a 
few  oatmeal  balls;  so  that  if  the  aggregate  amount  of  butter  and  cheese 
raised  by  these  miserable  supplies  is  but  small,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at. 
Thirty-two  pounds  of  butter  per  annum  may  be  stated  as  the  produce  of  a 
cow  in  the  Hebrides,  and  from  ninety  to  one  hundred  pounds  of  cheese,  made 
after  their  celebrated  fashion,  being  flavored  with  aromatic  herbs,  which  are 
added  to  the  rennet. 

It  will  not  be  difficult  to  see  that  in  general  the  qualities  of  dairy  cattle 
are  specific  and  distinct,  and  that  most  attempts  to  transmute  them  so  as  to 
exchange  the  flatness  of  conformation  of  the  milker  for  the  rotundity  of  the 
grazing  animal,  are  done  at  the  expense  of  her  dairying  qualifications.  Those 
breeds  possessing  the  conformations  calculated  for  milk  secretion,  are  pre- 
cisely those  which,  from  their  endurance  and  hardness,  are  most  suitable  for 
second-rate  grass  land,  upon  which,  it  will  be  remembered,  the  dairying  pro- 
cesses are  principally  carried  on.  When  the  soil  will  not  feed  the  merely 
fat-producing  animal,  Providence  has  wisely  provided  the  milker,  in  order 
that  no  spo>  jf  ground  should  be  without  its  productions  fitted  for  his  crea- 
ture man. 


28 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

FaT-PRODUCING  breeds  of  cattle 

Whatever  theoretical  objections  may  be  raised  against  ver-fed  cattle, 
and  great  as  may  be  the  attempts  to  disparage  the  mountains  :f  fat,  as  high- 
ly-fed cattle  are  sometimes  designated,  there  is  no  doubt  of  tlje  practical  fact, 
that  the  best  butcher  cannot  sell  anything  but  the  best  fatted  beef ; and  of 
whatever  age,  size,  or  shape,  a half-fatted  ox  may  be,  he  is  never  selected  by 
judges  as  fit  for  human  food.  Hence  a well-fatted  animal  always  commands 
a better  price  per  pound  than  one  imperfectly  fed,  and  the  parts  selected  as 
the  primest  beef  are  just  the  parts  where  there  are  the  largest  deposits  of  fat. 
The  rump,  the  crop,  and  the  sirloin,  the  very  favorite  cuts,  which  always 
command  from  twenty  to  twenty- five  per  cent,  more  than  any  other  part  of 
the  ox,  are  just  those  parts  on  which  the  largest  quantities  of  fat  are  found ; 
so  that  instead  of  the  taste  and  fashion  of  the  age  being  against  the  exces- 
sive fattening  of  animals,  it  is,  practically,  exactly  the  reverse.  Where  there 
is  most  fat  there  is  the  best  lean ; where  there  is  the  greatest  amount  of 
muscle,  without  its  share  of  fat,  that  part  is  accounted  inferior,  and  used  for 
a different  purpose ; in  fact,  so  far  from  fat  being  a disease,  it  is  a condition 
of  muscle,  necessary  to  its  utility  as  food — a source  of  luxury  to  the  rich, 
and  of  comfort  to  the  poor,  furnishing  a nourishing  and  healthy  diet  for 
their  families. 

Fattening  is  a secretive  power  which  grazing  animals  possess,  enabling 
them  to  lay  by  a store  of  the  superfluous  food  they  take  for  seasons  of  cold 
or  scarcity.  It  collects  round  the  angular  bones  of  the  animal,  and  gives  the 
appearance  of  rotundity ; hence  the  tendency  to  deposit  fat  is  indicated,  as 
we  have  stated,  by  a roundness  of  form,  as  opposed  to  the  flatness  of  a milk- 
secreting  animal.  But  ils  greatest  use  is,  that  it  is  a store  of  heat-producing 
aliment,  laid  up  for  seasons  of  scarcity  and  want.  The  food  of  animals  for 
the  most  part  may  be  said  to  consist  of  a saccharine,  an  oleaginous,  and  an 
albuminous  principle.  To  the  first  belong  all  the  starchy,  saccharine,  and 
gummy  parts  of  the  plants,  which  undergo  changes  in  the  digestive  organs 
similar  to  fermentation  before  they  can  be  assimilated  in  the  system ; by 
them  also  animal  heat  is  sustained.  In  indolent  animals  the  oily  parts  of 
plants  are  deposited  and  laid  up  as  fat ; and,  when  vigor  and  strength  fails,  it 
is  taken  up,  and  also  used  in  breathing  to  supply  the  place  of  the  consumed 
saccharine  matter.  The  albuminous,  or  gelatinous  principle  of  plants,  is 
mainly  useful  in  forming  muscle,  while  the  ashes  of  plants,  the  unconsumable 
parts,  are  for  the  supply,  mainly,  of  bone,  hair,  and  horn,  but  also  of  muscle 
and  of  blood,  and  to  supply  the  waste,  which  continually  goes  on.  Now, 
there  are  several  qualities  which  are  essentially  characteristic  of  a disposition 
to  fatten.  There  ^ave  not,  as  yet,  been  any  book-rules  laid  down,  as  in  the 


FAT-FRODUDING  BREEDS  OF  CATTLE. 


2 0 


case  of  Mr.  Gu6non?s  indications  of  milking  cows;  but  there  are  marks 
so  definite  and  wrell  understood,  that  they  are  comprehended  and  acted  upon 
by  every  grazier,  although  they  are  by  no  means  easy  to  describe.  It  is  by 
skillful  acumen  that  the  grazier  acquires  his  knowledge,  and  not  by  theore- 
tical rules ; observation,  judgment,  and  experience,  powerful  perceptive  fa- 
culties, and  a keen  and  minute  discrimination  and  comparison,  are  essential 
to  his  success.  * 

The  first  indication  he  relies  on  is  the  touch.  It  is  the  absolute  criterion 
of  quality , which  is  supposed  to  be  the  keystone  of  perfection  in  all  animals, 
whether  for  the  pail  or  the  butcher.  The  skin  is  so  intimately  connected 
with  the  internal  organs,  in  all  animals,  that  it  is  questionable  whether  even 
the  schools  of  medicine  might  not  make  more  use  of  it,  in  a diagnosis  of  dis- 
ease. Of  physiological  tendencies  in  cattle,  however,  it  is  of  the  last  and 
most  vital  importance.  It  must  neither  be  thick,  nor  hard,  nor  adhere  firmly 
to  the  muscles.  If  it  is  so,  the  animal  is  a hard  grazer,  a difficult  and  obsti- 
nate feeder — no  skillful  man  will  purchase  her — she  must  go  to  a novice,  and 
even  to  him,  at  a price  so  low  as  to  tempt  him  to  be  a purchaser.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  skin  must  not  be  thin,  like  paper,  nor  flaccid,  nor  loose  in  the 
hand,  nor  flabby.  This  is  the  opposite  extreme,  and  is  indicative  of  deli- 
cateness, bad,  flabby  flesh,  and  possibly  of  inaptitude  to  retain  the  fat.  It 
must  be  elastic  and  velvety,  soft  and  pliable,  presenting  to  the  touch  a gentle 
resistance,  but  so  delicate  as  to  give  pleasure  to  the  sensitive  hand, — a §kin, 
in  short,  which  seems  at  first  to  give  an  indentation  from  the  pressure  of  the 
fingers,  but  which  again  rises  to  its  place  by  a gentle  elasticity.  The  hair  is 
of  nearly  as  much  importance  as  the  skin.  A hard  skin  will  have  straight 
and  stiff  hair ; it  will  not  have  a curl,  but  be  thinly  and  lankly  distributed 
equally  over  the  surface.  A proper  grazing  animal  will  have  a mossy  coat, 
not  absolutely  curled,  but  having  a disposition  to  a graceful  curl,  a semifold, 
which  presents  a waving  inequality,  but  as  different  from  a close  and 
straightly  laid  coat,  as  it  is  from  one  standing  off  the  animal  at  right  angles, 
a strong  symptom  of  disease.  It  will  also,  in  a thriving  animal,  be  licked 
here  and  there  with  its  tongue,  a proof  that  the  skin  is  duly  performing  its 
functions.  There  must  be  also  the  full  and  goggle  eye,  bright  and 
pressed  outwards  by  the  fatty  bed  below,  because,  as  this  is  a part 
where  nature  always  provides  fat,  an  animal  capable  of  developing  it 
to  any  considerable  extent,  will  have  its  indications  here,  at  least,  when  it 
exists  in  excess. 

So  much  for  feeding  qualities  in  the  animal,  and  their  conformations  indi- 
cative of  this  kindly  disposition.  Next  come  such  formations  of  the  animal 
itself  as  are  favorable  to  the  growth  of  fat,  other  things  being  equal.  There 
must  be  size  where  large  weights  are  expected.  Christmas  beef,  for  instance, 
is  expected  to  be  large  as  well  as  fat.  The  symbol  of  festivity  should  be  ca- 
pacious as  well  as  prime  in  quality.  But  it  is  so  much  a matter  of  choice 


sc 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


and  circumstance  with  the  grazier  that  profit  alone  will  be  his  guide.  The 
axiom  will  be,  however,  as  a general  rule,  that  the  better  the  grazing  soil 
the  larger  the  animal  may  be;  the  poorer  the  soil  the  smaller  the  animal. 
Small  animals  are  unquestionably  much  more  easily  fed,  and  they  are  well 
known  by  experienced  men  to  be  those  best  adapted  to  second-rate  feeding 
pastures.  But  beyond  this  there  must  be  breadth  of  carcass.  This  is  indi- 
cative of  fattening,  perhaps,  beyond  all  other  qualifications.  If  rumps  an* 
favorite  joints,  and  produce  the  best  price,  it  is  best  to  have  the  animal 
which  will  grow  the  longest,  the  broadest,  and  the  best  rump;  the 
same  of  crop,  and  the  same  of  sirloin  ; and  not  only  so,  but  breadth  is  essen- 
tial to  the  consumption  of  that  quantity  of  food  which  is  necessary  to  the  de- 
velopment of  a large  amount  of  fat  in  the  animal.  Thus  a deep  wide  chest, 
favorable  for  the  respiratory  and  circulating  functions,  enables  it  to  consume 
a large  amount  of  food,  to  burn  up  the  sugary  matter,  and  to  deposit  the  fatty 
matter, — as  then  useless  for  respiration,  but  hereafter  to  be  prized.  A full 
level  crop  will  be  of  the  same  physiological  utility,  while  a broad  and  open 
framework  at  the  hips  will  afford  scope  for  the  action  of  the  liver  and 
kidneys. 

There  are  other  points  also  of  much  importance  : the  head  must  be  small 
and  fine;  its  special  use  is  indicative  of  the  quick  fattening  of  the  animal 
so  constructed,  and  also  it  is  indicative  of  the  bones  being  small  and  the  legs 
short.  For  constitutional  powers,  the  beast  should  have  his  ribs  extended 
well  towards  the  thigh-bones  or  hips,  so  as  to  leave  as  little  unprotected 
space  as  possible.  There  must  be  no  angular  or  abrupt  points ; all  must  be 
round,  and  broad,  and  parallel.  Any  depression  in  the  lean  animal,  will  give 
a deficient  deposit  of  flesh  and  fat,  at  that  point  when  sold  to  the  butcher, 
and  thus  deteriorate  its  value ; and  hence  the  animal  must  be  round  and  full. 
But  either  fancy,  or  accident,  or  skill — we  will  not  pretend  to  say  which,  has 
associated  symmetry  with  quality  and  conformation,  as  a point  of  great  im- 


portance in  animals  calculated  for  fattening  ; and  there  is  no  doubt  that,  to  a 


THE  SHORT-HORN  OR  DURHAM  BREED. 


31 


certain  extent,  this  is  so.  The  beast  must  be  a system  of  mathematical 
lines.  To  the  advocate  of  symmetry  the  setting  on  of  a tail  will  be  a con- 
demning fault ; indeed,  the  ridge  of  the  back  like  a straight  line,  with  the 
outline  of  the  belly  exactly  parallel,  viewed  from  the  side,  and  a depth  and 
squareness  when  viewed  from  behind,  which  remind  us  of  a geometrical 
cube  rather  than  a vital  economy,  may  be  said  to  be  the  indications  of  excel- 
lence in  a fat  ox.  We  give  an  outline  of  the  points  of  excellence  in  one  of 
these  animals,  with  the  method  of  cutting  up  the  beast  in  the  London  mar- 
kets. Now,  these  qualities  are  inherent  in  some  breeds;  there  may  be  cases 
and  instances  in  all  the  superior  breeds,  and  in  most  there  may  be  failures 

By  far  the  first  in  the  list  for  feeding  excellence  are — 

THE  SHORT-HORN,  OR  DURHAM  BREED. 

The  origin  of  the  breed  is  involved  in  great  obscurity.  They  are  suppos- 
ed by  some  to  be  traced  into  Holderness, — and  to  have  been  imported  Hol- 
stein, according  to  others  ; from  continental  Europe  they  certainly  seem  to 
have  come  ; and,  being  successively  improved  by  a variety  of  breeders,  they 
have  ended  in  that  distinct  race  of  animals,  extraordinary  beyond  all  others 
for  their  astonishing  propensities  to  feed.  Others,  again,  refer  their  origin  to 
a native  race  of  cattle  called  the  Teeswater,  because  they  have  from  time 
immemorial  inhabited  the  valley  which  the  Tees  has  formed  by  its  washings 
down  of  the  mountain  limestone  rocks,  in  which  it  has  its  origin ; these  it  is 
said,  being  crossed  by  the  Holderness  importations,  gradually  became  a new 
race 

The  late  Mr.  Bates  traces  back  the  short  horns  to  a breed  in  the  possession 
of  the  Aslabies  of  Studley,  and  the  Rev.  H.  Berry  to  an  improvement  in  the 
East  Riding  of  Yorkshire  by  the  importation  of  a breed  from  Holland  by 
Sir  W.  St.  Quintin  of  Scampston.  Of  these  early  ages  of  the  short-horns, 
however,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  more  than  this, — that  a breed  from 
time  immemorial  inhabited  the  valley  of  the  Tees,  and,  trained  and  bred  to 
feed,  for  a vast  succession  of  generations,  on  its  fertile  deposits,  acquired  the 
habits  of  speedy  fat-forming  ; for  in  these  valleys,  where  hay  alone  will  feed 
the  largest  ox,  the  production  of  fat  would  be  so  far  an  object,  that  breeders 
would  always  select  the  best  and  easiest  feeding  animals  ; and  thus  the  cha- 
racter of  the  district,  through  a number  of  centuries,  might  easily  lay  the 
groundwork  of  that  improvement  which  the  Milbanks,  the  Greys,  the 
Booths,  the  Coates,  and,  above  all,  the  Collings  have  effected. 

We  will  give  the  latest  description  of  the  qualities  of  the  modern  short- 
horn from  the  most  recent  authority,  Mr.  Dickson.  After  referring  to  the 
general  symmetry  of  the  frame  and  its  delicate  color,  either  deep-red,  cream- 
colored,  white,  or  delicate  roan — the  latter,  the  most  fashionable  and  indeed 
prevailing  color — he  speaks  of  it  as  possessing  “the  mellowest  touch,  sup- 
ported on  small  clean  limbs,  showing,  like  those  of  the  greyhound  and  the 


32 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


race  horse,  the  union  of  strength  with  fineness,  and  ornamented  wi.  i a small, 
lengthy,  tapering  head,  neatly  set  on  a broad,  firm,  deep  neck ; furnished 
with  a small  muzzle,  wide  nostrils,  prominent  mildly-beaming  eyes  ; thin, 
large,  veiny  ears,  set  near  the  crown  of  the  head,  and  protected  in  ft  nit  with 
semicircularly-bent  white  or  waxy  colored  short,  smooth,  pointed  horns; 
all  these  several  parts  combine  to  form  a symmetrical  harmony  which  has 
never  been  surpassed  in  beauty  and  sweetness  by  any  other  species  of  the 
domesticated  ox.” 

Keeping  in  mind  what  was  said  to  be  the  perfection  of  a fat  animal,  the 
same  authority,  speaking  of  the  short-horn,  says, — “ we  have  a straight  level 
back  from  behind  the  horns  to  the  top  of  the  tail,  full  buttocks,  and  a project- 
ing brisket;  we  have,  in  short,  the  rectangular  form ; we  have  also  the  level 
line  across  the  hook-bones  (hip) , and  the  level  top  of  the  shoulder  across  the 
ox,  and  perpendicular  lines  down  the  hind  and  fore  legs  on  both  sides  ; these 
constituting  the  square  form  when  the  ox  is  viewed  before  and  behind,  and 
we  have  straight  parallel  lines  from  the  sides  of  the  shoulders  along  the  ut- 
most parts  of  the  ribs  and  the  sides  of  the  hind  quarters ; and  wre  have  these 
lines  connected  at  their  ends  by  others  of  shorter  and  equal  length  across  the 
end  of  the  rump  and  the  top  of  the  shoulder ; thus  constituting  the  rectan- 
gular form  of  the  ox  when  viewed  from  above  down  the  back.” 

It  will  be  very  wide  from  our  purpose  to  show,  either  the  immense 
amount  of  fat  which  has  at  one  time  or  another  accumulated  on  the  backs 
of  these  wonderful  animals,  or  the  speed  with  which  this  has  been  done. 
Neither  would  it  tend  much  to  elucidate  the  principles  of  breeding  or  graz- 
ing, to  detail  at  any  length  the  prices  which  short-horns  have  commanded 
and  do  command. 

The  Durham  Ox,  a son  of  Charles  Colling’ s Favorite,  weighed  187  stone 
2 lbs.  The  Yorkshire  Ox,  bred  by  Mr.  Dunhill,  of  Newton,  near  Doncaster, 
weighed,  when  killed,  264  stone  13  lbs.  These  are  weights  of  14  lbs.  to 
the  stone,  and  show  strange  capabilities  to  lay  on  fat  and  flesh  possessed  b)r 
this  extraordinary  race  of  animals.  Though  there  is  not,  perhaps,  anothe^r 
instance  on  record  of  any  bull  selling  for  so  much  moneyas  Charles  Colling’s 
Comet,  which  sold  for  1000  guineas,  and  -whose  herd,  forty-seven  in  number, 
sold  for  £7115;  yet  £500,  £600.  and  as  much  as  £800,  are  still  given  for  a 
first-rate  short-horn  bull. 

Nor  is  it  in  their  rapid  fattening  alone  that  this  race  of  cattle  excels.  They 
are  beyond  all  question,  the  most  remarkable  for  early  maturity.  Fat  depo- 
sits are  generally  the  result  of  a mature  state  of  the  animal.  There  are  few 
animals  who  w’ill  lay  it  on,  to  any  degree,  at  least,  until  they  are  fully 
formed.  The  short-horn  is  an  exception.  They  commence  the  fat-forming 
process  as  calves.  This  seems  to  increase  with  their  growth,  and  at  a year 
old  they  have  all  the  semblance  of  cows. 

The  feeders  of  short-horns,  instead  of  keeping  them  to  three,  four,  or  five 


THE  HEREFORD  BREED. 


33 


years  of  age,  fatten  them  and  sell  them  off  at  from  two  to  two-and-a-half 
years ; they  can  thus  turn  off  one-half  more,  at  least,  if  not  a greater  pro- 
portion, of  beef,  from  their  farms  or  their  stalls,  than  could  possibly  be  done 
with  any  other  breed.  Hence  they  have  quick  returns  and  large  amounts 
of  beef  for  the  food-consumer.  We  will  not  deny  that  the  short-horn  re- 
quires good  keep,  and  shelter,  and  care.  She  needs  nourishing  diet ; but  she 
pays  for  all,  for  she  is  a cow  when  another  is  a calf,  the  Ox  is  fat  when  the 
other  is  growing.  Hence  the  short-horn  stand?  the  very  first  on  the  list  of 


THE  SHORT-HORNED  COW. 


tne  fat-producing  breeds  of  cattle.  We  give  a drawing  of  a specimen  of  a 
matured  short-horn  cow.  * 

THE  HEREFORD  BREED. 

This  is  a middle-horn  breed  of  cattle,  upon  which  a good  deal  of  pains  have 
lately  been  taken.  The  success  of  short-horn  breeders, — of  the  Booths,  the 

* This  cow  was  not  only  a capital  cow  as  her  portrait  shows,  but  was  a suoaxior 
milker,  yielding  a large  quantity  of  rich  milk. 

2* 


34 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


Bates,  the  Wileys,  the  Hoppers,  and  a score  more  of  short-horn  patrons  have 
caused  a healthy  emulation,  and  the  difference  between  the  Hereford  cattle 
now  exhibited,  and  those  shown  some  ten  or  twelve  years  ago,  shows  not 
only  that  these  breeders  have  judgment  and  skill,  but  it  must  also  be  con- 
fessed, that  the  breed  have  fattening  capabilities.  The  old  Hereford  was  a 
deep  brown  animal,  sometimes  with  an  ochery  cast,  free  from  white,  like 
the  Devons ; but  an  improved  breed  now  possess  the  county,  in  which  the 
invariable  fashion  is  a dark  red,  with  a white  face,  white  belly,  and  not  nn- 
frequently  a white  back.  The  skin  is  thicker  and  less  mellow  than  that  of 
the  short-horn,  nor  has  the  hair  the  mossy  softness,  or  graceful  curl  of  the 
latter.  The  eye  is  full  and  lively,  the  chest  deep  and  broad,  the  loin  also 
broad,  and  the  hips  well-expanded ; a level  broad  rump,  a round  barrel,  and 
full  crop  ; full,  deep  flank,  well-ribbed  home ; small  bones,  clean  and  per- 
pendicular thighs,  belly  almost  parallel  with  back,  head  small.  Indeed, 


THK  HKREFORD  COW.  (lIR.  SOTHAm’s  MATCHLESS.) 


color  and  symmetry  are  perhaps  the  predominant  qualifications  which  se- 
cure the  high  favor  of  the  breeder. 

From  the  above  description  it  will  be  seen  that  the  Hereford,  possessing 
many  essentials  ir  form,  is  destitute  of  the  quality  producing  early  maturity, 
and  speedy  disposi  ion  to  fatten.  He  lays  on  his  flesh,  soft,  and  mottled,  on 
the  best  parts ; hs  ’.as  full  sirloins,  rumps,  and  crop,  but  he  shows  his  beef 


TFIE  WEST  HIGHLAND  SOOT. 


35 


u uitside ; and  he  requires  much  more  time  to  develop  his  qualities  than 
tht,  ahort-horn.  In  milking  qualities  the  cow  is  even  behind  the  ox  in  feed- 
ing, and  i:  must  in  general  be  three  and  a half  to  four  years  old  before  it  can 
be  fatted,  with  any  very  marked  success.  They  require  a iich  pasture, 
though  a hardy  animal,  and  the  average  weight  when  fat,  does  net  exceed 
fifty-five  to  sixty-five  stones,  of  fourteen  pounds.  Herefordshire  being  more 
a breeding  than  a feeding  county,  the  cattle  are  reared  there,  and  sold  off  at 
three  years  old  to  graze  in  the  counties  of  Leicester,  Northampton,  and  the 
rich  grass  districts  ; but  with  all  its  good  qualities  it  must  be  admitted  that 
it  requires  from  ten  to  twelve  months  more  to  feed  than  its  more  favored 
compeer,  the  short-horn.  We  give  a sketch  of  a first-rate  specimen.  Much 
controversy  has  gone  on  lately  as  to  the  merits  of  the  two  breeds — the  short- 
horn and  the  Hereford  ; but  it  must  be  conceded,  that  while  the  short-horn 
is  penetrating  into  the  heart  of  Scotland,  into  the  south  of  England,  and  into 
the  county  of  Gloucester,  on  the  one  hand,  and  into  Norfolk  on  the  other, 
the  Hereford  is  hardly  keeping  his  ground,  he  is  making  no  inroads  into  any 
one  important  new  grazing  district;  and  unless  the  gigantic  efforts  now 
made  to  amend  the  characteristics  of  the  breed  effect  something  more,  they 
will  dwindle  still  further  away. 

THE  WEST  HIGHLAND  SCOT. 

Next  to  the  Hereford  in  the  ranks  of  fattening  animals,  we  place  this  breed 
of  cattle ; and  they  well  deserve  it, — for  they  will  fatten  in  places  and  on 
food  on  which  both  the  short-horn,  and  the  Hereford  too,  would  perish. 
This  West  Highland  breed  is  somewhat  wild  in  its  nature,  and  will  not  bear 
the  least  confinement,  tying,  or  control.  It  is  eminently  gregarious,  and  if 
kept  alone  will  generally  fret  and  pine.  The  peculiarity  of  the  breed  is,  that 
it  is  a small  animal,  generally  deep  jet-black,  pale  red,  or  dun,  seldom  any 
white  spots  on  any  part  of  the  body ; its  horns  are  long,  and  turned  upwards 
and  outwards.  The  coat  is  peculiar,  soft,  long,  and  absolutely  curled,  so  as 
to  form  a sort  of  fleece.  Another  peculiarity  is,  that  they  form  their  beet 
almost  entirely  on  the  back,  which  is  therefore  straight,  the  body  is  round  ; 
and  they  lay  on  fat  rapidly  under  circumstances  in  which  another  animal 
would  literally  starve. 

He  can  assimilate,  from  a soil  so  barren  as  to  be  sterile  for  others,  as 
much  food  as  will  enable  him  to  feed — for  to  grow  is  out  of  the  question , 
that  process  is  performed  on  his  native  hills ; if  indulged,  however,  he  will 
pay  for  it  in  the  rapidity  of  his  fattening,  and  the  excellence  of  his  beef. 
They  will  weigh,  with  amazingly  little  care,  some  48  to  50  stone,  and  some 
have  been  said  to  reach  as  far  as  70.  The  exceptions  to  this  rule,  however, 
are  very  important  in  special  cases.  The  Duke  of  Northumberland  having 
a very  promising  Argylshire  “stot” — bullocks,  as  they  are  called  more 
generally  in  England — kept  him  as  long  as  he  saw  him  improve,  to  see 


36 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


THE  WEST-HIGHLAND  OX. 

what  he  would  weigh.  He  was  five  and  a half  years  old,  and  weighed 
exclusive  of  offal,  100  stones  4 lbs.  Though,  perhaps,  one  of  the  heaviest 
of  the  breed  ever  slaughtered,  he  was  neither  the  fattest  nor  the  most  in- 
active, but  seemed  in  that  state  to  possess  all  the  activity  which  he  had  on 
his  native  hills.  To  give  an  idea  of  his  keeping,  and  of  the  hardihood  oi 
his  race,  it  is  only  necessary  to  give  an  account  of  his  food.  In  the  first 
winter  he  was  turned  out  to  a poor  pasture,  with  a little  bad  hay  ; in  the 
summer  he  had  again  a poor  land  pasture  ; in  the  next  winter  he  had  again 
a poor  pasture,  but  a fewr  turnips  ; in  the  following  summer  he  had  a fair 
pasture,  and  the  same  pasture  in  winter,  with  a more  liberal  allowance  of 
turnips ; in  the  third  summer  he  was  tolerably  well  grazed ; in  the  fourth 
winter,  he  had  as  many  turnips  as  he  could  eat  in  the  sheltered  straw  fold  ; 
and  in  the  summer  in  which  he  was  fatted,  he  had  all  the  indulgence  of  a 
feeding  animal,  viz.,  cut  clover,  hay,  mangel-wurzel,  turnips,  bean-meal,  and 
a little  oilcake  : the  latter  of  which  he  always  disliked.  Mr.  Quarl  says, 
his  “ fat  was  distributed  in  an  uncommon  equable  manner,  of  a color  re- 
sembling the  finest  grass  butter,  and  as  firm  as  wax ; the  muscle  was  in 
ample  proportion,  bright  in  color,  of  fine  texture,  and  beautifully  marbled  by 
admixture  of  his  excellent  fat.  Our  cut  is  an  engraving,  f am  an  original 
drawing,  of  a winner  at  Smithfield,  of  this  class. 


THE  DEVON*  BREED. 


37 


THE  DEVON  BREED. 

If  this  had  been  a treatise  on  drawing  cattle,  we  should  have  placed  this 
middle-homed  description  of  animals  first  in  our  list,  instead  of  almost  last. 
They  are  physiologically  well  formed  animals ; they  are  a very  old,  and 
carefully  kept,  distinct  breed  of  animals.  They  are  docile  and  tractable,  pa- 
tient and  gentle ; hardy,  notwithstanding  their  warm  and  humid  climate ; 
but  they  are  not  first-rate  milkers,  although  very  good  feeders.  They  will 
grow  to  a considerable  size  ; and  they  produce  a class  of  beef,  at  all  periods 
of  their  growth,  of  capital  quality.  The  red  color — all  red,  and  nothing  but 
red — is  a sine  qua  non  in  a Devonshire  Ox ; he  has  a moderately  straight  top, 
a fine  serene  countenance,  and  small  head ; a somewhat  thin  skin,  covered 
with  curly  hair.  The  rump  is  narrower  than  in  the  short-horns,  and  the 
chine  lighter  and  flatter ; but  the  brisket  is  large  and  full,  the  legs  fine,  the 
shoulder  slanting,  the  neck  long  and  thin.  He  is  a beast  of  draught,  and  for 
this  he  is  unequaled. 

Mr.  Parkinson,  in  his  invaluable  and  practical  Treatise  on  Live  Stock, 
gives  the  weight  of  some  specimens  of  six  years’  old  cattle,  which  weighed 
some  57  stone  2 lbs. ; but  the  cows  much  less.  He  says  of  them — u On  the 
whole,  they  must  be  allowed  to  be  good  cattle  for  their  soils,  and  particular- 


DEVON  BULL. 


ly  where  oxen  are  worked  at  the  plow.  When  slaughtered,  they  are  a 
sort  of  beef  that  suits  the  consumption  of  many  customers.” 


38 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


Among  the  most  successful  breeders  of  Devon*hirj  cattle  nay  be  men- 
tioned Mr.  Turner  of  Barton,  near  Exeter,  Mr.  Quartly  of  MoHand,  (who  is 
the  most  distinguished  winner,)  Mr.  Merson  of  Brinsworthy,  and  Mr 
Davy  of  Moulton. 

GALLOWAY  BREED. 

The  Galloways  are  prominent  fat-producing  animals  cf  Scotland,  and  are 
bred  in  great  numbers  in  Galloway  and  Durnfrieshire.  They  are  hornless, 
mostly  black,  are  small  in  size,  compact,  short-legged,  hardy,  have  thick 
mossy  coats,  and  are  good  feeders.  As  milkers  they  are  very  indifferent, 


GALLOWAY  COW. 


like  all  small  milkers,  the  quality  is  rich.  They  are  mostly  driven 
south  and  fed  off  on  the  good  pastures  in  England,  and  like  the  Highlanders, 
bring  the  highest  price  in  the  London  markets.  The  joints  are  of  a good 
size  for  family  roasts,  and  the  meat  is  of  the  best  description  ; thus  making  it 
the  most  desirable. 


THE  ANGUS  BREED. 


We  shall  close  our  remarks  on  the  fat-producing  class  of  oxen  by  shortly 
describing  a hornless,  or  polled  race  of  animals — the  Angus  u Doddies,”  as 
they  are  called.  Being  bad  milkers,  they  are  generally  used  for  grazing, 
and  very  much  fatted  in  their  native  country ; they  are  also  purchased  for 


THE  ANGUS  BREED. 


ANGUS  OX. 

feeding  by  the  graziers  of  Leicestershire  and  Norfolk.  Their  color  is  gen- 
erally black,  but  occasionally  red ; the  head  fine  ; the  breast  deep  ; the  back 
not  quite  straight,  being  a little  depressed  at  the  loin,  and  somewhat  narrow ; 
the  eye  full  and  clear;  the  touch  generally  good,  and  the  hair  thick  and  cur- 
ly. The  tendency  of  the  flesh,  as  in  all  the  hardy  Scottish  cattle,  is  to  form 
on  the  back ; but  they  will  weigh  from  70  to  80  stone,  and  will  even  reach 
as  far  as  100  when  five  or  six  years  of  age. 

Qualities  are  so  co-existent  with  conformation,  that,  as  a general  rule,  it 
may  be  received  as  an  axiom.  And  as  dairy  and  butcher  qualities  are  gen- 
erally combined  only  to  a very  limited  extent,  and  as  both  qualities  are  rarely 
high  in  the  same  breed,  it  becomes  the  agriculturist  to  make  his  selection 
according  to  the  object  he  has  in  view. 


4.) 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  PRINCIPLES  OP  CATTLE-BREEDING. 

One  of  the  most  wonderful  instances  of  man’s  supremacy  over  creation  js 
the  influence  he  is  able  to  exercise  in  directing  vital  processes ; here  his 
power  is  perfectly  talismanic.  Within  certain  limits,  he  has  the  power  of 
asserting  his  dominion  so  far  as  to  make  stern  nature  obey,  and  do  his  bid- 
ding. If  he  wants  size  or  hardihood,  activity  or  greatness,  milk  or  fat,  nay 
whether  he  demand  wool,  or  mutton,  or  beef,  he  can  so  arrange  the  elements 
with  which  Divine  Providence  has  blessed  him,  that  he  can  bend,  anr 
mould,  and  adapt  them  to  his  will,  until  he  has  produced  the  kind  and  class 
of  animal  he  requires. 

And  this  really  arises  more  from  individual  skill  than  science ! Whatever 
physiological  principles  are  involved — and  there  are  such,  laid  broad  and 
deep — they  are  discovered  by  the  facts  known  to  the  breeder,  and  teach  him 
little  in  the  management  of  his  business.  The  perseverance  and  skill,  the 
powers  of  observation  and  discrimination  possessed  by  some  breeders,  have, 
doubtless,  been  the  cause  of  their  success,  and  led  to  England  becoming  pre- 
eminent for  food-producing  animals;  for  in  no  other  part  of  the  known 
world  can  it  be  said  that  there  are  anything  like  such  native  specimens  to  be 
found,  either  for  producing  flesh,  milk,  butter,  or  cheese. 

To  watch  physiological  tendencies,  and  avail  themselves  of  these  judicious- 
ly in  practice,  was  practiced  by  breeders  long  anterior  to  scientific  research. 
Intelligently  perceiving  what  was  required,  Colling  and  Bakewell  attempted 
and  attained  the  art  of  producing  superior  cattle  and  sheep.  Seeing  also  the 
necessity  of  economizing  food,  they  set  about  producing  those  animals  which 
came  to  maturity  early ; and  so  produced  vastly  more  animal  food  from  the 
same  amount  of  vegetation.  Knowing  that  fat  was  an  element  of  favor  in 
a northern  clime,  they  endeavored  to  obtain  animals  with  a tendency  to  se- 
crete it  in  large  quantities.  In  order  to  do  this,  they  observed  the  qualities 
indicative  of  these  tendencies ; and,  knowing  that  it  is  true  in  physiology,  as 
:n  mathematics,  that  like  produces  like,  they  selected  and  bred  from  ani- 
mals possessing  them,  until  they  stamped  their  qualities,  permanently  and 
indelibly,  and  invariably,  on  their  produce.  With  these  they  managed  to 
combine,  perhaps,  their  invariable  concomitants,  symmetry  and  beauty ; and 
hence  the  origin  of  our  flocks  of  Leicester  sheep,  and  our  herds  of  short- 
horn cattle. 

There  are  in  all  animals,  high  as  well  as  low,  those  exceptional  instances 
where  an  individual  far  outstrips  his  congeners  in  some  particular  quality. 
Now,  if  another  possessing  the  same  qualities  should  be  paired  with  this  in- 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  CATTLE  BREEDING. 


41 


dividual,  there  is  certainly  no  guarantee  that  the  produce  will  exactly  inherit 
both.  A knowledge  of  this  fact  has  disheartened  many  a breeder.  He 
wanted  milk ; and  he  selected  for  his  female  breeding  animal  the  best  milk- 
cow  in  his  dairy,  and  he  carried  her  to  a bull  who  was  also  the  son  of  a 
dairy-cow  of  standing  and  character.  He  expects  the  produce  to  be  a milk- 
er; but  he  is  disappointed  ; and  in  disgust  he  retires  and  leaves  to  chance 
what  he  thinks  he  cannot  obtain  by  skill  and  effort. 

But  he  is  in  error.  The  principles  of  breeding  are  perfect ; but  he  has  not 
had  the  patience  to  wait  for  the  fruit.  One  of  his  selections  was  an  acciden- 
tal product.  She  was  not  the  successor  of  a favored  ancestry.  She  so  far 
outstripped  her  race,  as  to  be  possessed  of  qualities  in  which  they  were  de- 
ficient ; but  her  produce  bred  back,  they  resembled  more  the  true  breed  of 
which  she  was  an  exception ; and  thus  the  breeder  was  disappointed  in  his 
expectations,  and  gave  up  on  the  first  skirmish,  instead  of  bearing  the  brunt 
of  the  battle.  He  should  have  gone  on  selecting  the  most  famous  for  milk 
within  his  reach  ; and  he  would,  by  and  by,  have  acquired  as  a tendency  of 
his  breed,  the  accidental  qualities,  which  would  have  become  the  rule  instead 
of  the  exception. 

Hence  the  improvement  of  a breed  of  stock  is  not  the  work  of  a day  or 
a year,  but  the  business  of  a life-time  ; and  if  a breeder  were  to  start  de  novo 
to  engraft  some  peculiar  tendency  on  a herd  of  cattle  or  a flock  of  sheep,  it 
might  be  that  his  sons  would  reap  the  benefit  of  his  skill  and  efforts,  if  they 
were  rightly  directed ; for  there  would  be  no  certainty  of  the  full  qualities 
being  established  in  only  two  or  three  generations. 

There  are  not  only  limits,  therefore,  to  the  mathematical  axiom  that  like 
produces  like,  modified  by  vital  powers  with  which  the  breeder  has  to  deal, 
but  we  think  there  is  a principle  deeper  still,  one  little  noticed  by  writers  on 
breeding  stock,  but  one  which  all  our  great  breeders  knew’  and  practiced, 
viz.,  that  some  one  animal  has  much  more  power  of  transmitting  his  quali- 
ties than  others.  We  know  at  this  moment  a couple  of  gentlemen,  [Messrs. 
Booths,]  who  show  the  best  short-horn  cowrs  and  heifers,  who  may  be  said 
to  have  the  best  female  animals  perhaps  in  the  kingdom,  but  W'ho  hardly 
ever  get  a prize  for  one  of  their  bulls ; and  whose  best  animals  wTere  all 
got  by  a bull  who  never  was  qualified  to  merit  a single  distinction.  He  had 
no  great  symmetry  himself,  was  coarse  and  ungainly;  but  he  had  so  much 
vital  force  that  he  impressed  symmetrical  beauty  on  all  his  progeny,  be  his 
partners  what  they  might ; he  was  thus  the  sire  of  a complete  herd  of 
winners.  The  remarkable  results  of  the  Collings  in  cattle-breeding  were 
really  due  either  to  the  skill  they  had  in  seeking  this  transmissive  power,  or 
to  the  accident  of  obtaining  by  chance  an  animal  who  possessed  it,  in  their 
bull,  Hubback. 

It  is  quite  clear  that  to  have  any  merit  as  a short-horn,  there  must  be 
more  or  less  of  the  Hubback  blood.  He  was  the  sire  of  many  of  the  Col- 


42 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


lings’s  best  cattle,  at  i his  grandson,  Foljambe,  was  acknowledged  to  be  an 
animal  which  much  improved  their  herds;  the  bull  Favorite  was  from  the 
union  of  a brother  and  sister,  whose  common  parent  was  this  same  Fol- 
jambe. 

Thus  in  breeding  animals  the  counterpart  of  each  other,  though  it  may 
not  in  the  first  generation  prove  all  that  could  be  wished,  yet  it  gives  the 
tendency  in  the  breed  to  progress  in  that  direction  ; and  the  careful  and  per- 
severing selection  of  animals  with  the  same  tendency,  through  several  gen- 
erations, must  have  these  results. 

The  difficulties  nowin  the  way  of  breeders  are,  by  no  means,  those  which 
met  the  early  improvers.  They  had  to  make  a groundwork  from  raw  ma- 
terials, so  to  speak,  and  had  to  carry  them  single  handed  through  every 
stage  of  their  manufacture.  Now  it  is  different ; there  are  in  the  present 
breeds  of  the  country  quite  variety  enough  to  found  any  of  the  required 
qualities  of  animals  upon,  and  the  difficulties  of  selection  are  comparatively 
light.  It  requires,  however,  as  much  skill  as  ever  to  keep  any  one  variety 
of  animals  foremost  in  the  race,  when  there  are  so  many  excellent  sorts  tc 
breed  from ; the  original  improvers  therefore  had  less  difficulty  than  the 
present  race  in  maintaining  their  position. 

True,  they  had  to  work  without  rules  or  experience,  but  they  had 
the  whole  field  before  them  and  they  had  fewer  competitors  ; the  race  they 
improved  was  such,  that  every  step  they  took  was  palpable  and  definite 
there  were  fewer  combinations  of  blood  necessary,  and  consequently  lest 
risk  of  a failure.  Now,  the  main  effort  is  directed  to  overcome  a defect. 
Suppose  it  is  the  very  common  one  of  a flat  crop — a hollow  behind  the 
shoulder  blade.  That  sire  must  be  selected,  whose  peculiar  physical  confor- 
mation, in  harmony  in  other  respects  with  the  head,  has  this  point  in  per- 
fection. On  the  calves  there  may  be  little  impression  ; but  if  they  are  again 
paired  with  another  animal  having  a similar  conformation,  there  will  be 
more  impression  produced,  and  on  a greater  proportion  of  the  herd.  Still 
they  will  be  variable  ; and  it  will  require  effort  after  effort,  and  a long  pro- 
cess of  attentive  selection  and  rejection  before  it  becomes  a uniform  charac- 
teristic of  the  herd,  and  the  change  be  sustained. 

In  speaking  of  the  modes  of  improving  a breed,  the  question  arises, — how 
far  is  this  to  be  done  by  the  adoption  of  a male,  or  a change  in  the  female 
animals.  The  universal  consent,  we  may  say,  of  breeders  of  all  classes, 
seems  to  award  the  value  to  the  male.  The  greatest  care  is  taken  in  select- 
ing a stallion ; while  the  worst  and  most  useless  mare  is  sent  to  him.  The 
flock  master  will  give  from  twenty  to  fifty  pounds  for  the  use  of  a ram,  who 
would  grudge  to  give  five  for  a ewe ; but  it  is  different  in  cattle.  The  dai- 
ryman is  very  careful  in  selecting  his  cows.  They  are  watched,  as  heifers, 
for  the  development  of  their  good  qualities,  and  are  preserved  either  for 
their  succession  to  a maternal  race  of  milkers,  or  because  they  are  prnmis- 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  CATTLE  BREEDING. 


43 


ing  in  themselves  ; but  the  bull  to  which  they  are  sent  is  too  often  a matter 
of  convenience  rather  than  selection.  They  know  he  is  a bull  and  that  is 
enough.  The  too  usual  mode  is  to  try  the  heifer  by  her  first  calf.  If  she 
promises  well  as  a milker,  she  is  kept  for  a cow ; if  not,  she  is  consigned  to 
the  grazier  for  the  butcher.  Reasoning  from  analogy,  the  mother  would  be 
naturally  considered  as  more  influencing  the  animal  than  the  sire.  The  in- 
fluence of  the  mother  is  long  and  continuous.  Her  blood  flows  through  its 
veins,  it  partakes  of  her  habits  and  sympathies  ; but  still  the  vital  force  of 
the  male  animal  is  pre-eminent ; much  as  the  mother  may  influence  the 
constitution,  the  sire  possesses  a far  greater  sway  over  the  conformation, 
the  qualities,  and  the  appearance.  If,  therefore,  the  object  of  the  breeder  is 
to  perpetuate  and  impress  the  good  qualities,  and  to  remove  the  defects  of 
his  breed,  he  will  be  careful  in  the  selection  of  both  the  sire  and  the  dam  of 
his  breeding  animals.  A single  failure — a single  year's  neglect — may  stamp 
qualities  on  his  race  which  it  may  take  years  to  eradicate  ; for  even  to  keep 
a breeding  stock  in  a high  state  of  excellence,  is  by  no  means  so  easy  a task 
as  may  be  imagined  by  some. 

This  brings  us  to  the  much  agitated  question  of  breeding  in  and  in ; in  other 
words,  of  breeding  auimals  solely  from  the  same  stock,  all  possessing  more 
or  less  affinity  for  each  other,  and  all  originating  in  one  or  two  varieties  of 
animals.  The  controversy  has  raged  from  Bakewell  downward.  He  bred 
entirely  from  his  own  stock.  Opponents  to  the  system  say  his  animals 
became  small  and  feeble  in  constitution,  and  they  failed.  But  he  only 
adopted  one  of  the  first  axioms  of  breeding, — he  selected  the  best  he  could  find. 
He  saw  and  knew  nofie  like  his  own,  and  he  took  them  because  he  could 
not  find  their  equals.  He  attained  high  perfection  by  the  system.  He  got 
a breed  of  good  animals — they  were  attaining  good  qualities  ; he  bred  from 
them  with  each  other,  to  give  it  permanency  and  uniformity,  and  indelibility 
to  his  flock  and  to  his  herd.  And  what  if  he  did  get  them  small  and  deli- 
cate ? His  object  was  to  produce  animals  less  coarse,  less  gross,  less  hard 
than  the  original  stock;  and  he  succeeded,  although  possibly  he  carried  his 
predilections  too  far.  Analogies  are  attempted  to  be  made  between  the 
human  subject  and  the  brute.  It  is  said  that  in  the  former  the  most  serious 
physical  and  mental  disorders  arise  from  too  near  consanguinity.  A family 
intermarries,  afflicted  with  mania,  or  consumption,  or  scrofula ; intermar- 
riage where  these  diseases  exist  will  increase  the  virulence  of  the  tendency 
until  the  family  may  become  weak  and  feeble  or  may  become  extinct. 
They  do  so,  not  because  they  breed  in  and  in,  but  because  they  disregard 
the  first  principles  of  increase ; they  render  permanent  the  defects  of  the 
slock,  by  alliances  of  similar  tendencies.  Mr.  Bates’s  rule  was,  “ breed  in 
and  in  from  a bad  stock,  and  you  commit  ruin  and  devastation ; but  if  a good 
stock  be  sel  cted , you  may  breed  in-and-in  as  much  os  you  please.  If  deficiency 
of  mental  power  be  a consequence  of  in-and-in  breeding,  surely  it  will  be 


44 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


an  advan'  4ge  in  feeding  animals , — for  the  sensuous  with  them  ought  entirely 
lo  swallow  up  the  intellectual. 

The  objectors  to  consanguineous  breeding,  and  its  deteriorating  and  enfee- 
bling character,  seem  to  forget,  that,  in  the  case  of  the  wiid  (Attle  at 
Chillingham  Park,  to  which  allusion  was  made  in  the  introduction,  no  cross 
has  been  made  for  an  immemorial  number  of  centuries;  and  thus  unchanged 
and  unchangeable,  they  remain,  without  deterioration,  without  feebleness, 
a standing  objection  to  the  indiscriminate  condemnation  of  the  system  of 
breeding  from  the  same  stock. 

The  answer,  that  these  animals  do  not  show  any  improved  points,  is  an 
argument  in  favor  of  this  system  of  breeding,  for  the  fact  that  they  never 
had  them,  and  possibly  never  will  have  the  chance,  so  long  as  the  breed  is 
kept  pure  and  unalloyed,  is  quite  decisive  in  its  favor.  Like  all  other  wild 
animals,  a natural  law  prevents  the  feeble  male  from  exercising  any  unfa- 
vorable tendency.  They  have  a king : during  the  rutting  season  fierce  and 
almost  deadly  battles  take  place  amongst  the  bulls  for  the  favor  of  the 
females.  The  hardiest,  strongest,  and  most  enduring  male  is  the  victor,  and 
he  becomes  the  parent  of  the  future  herd.  This  may,  and  is  likely  to  con- 
tinue for  some  years, — for,  once  admitted  a victor,  a great  change  must  take 
place  before  the  contest  will  be  renewed.  But  no  sooner  does  the  male 
animal  become  feeble,  than  another  season  renews  the  strife — the  once 
patriarch  is  vanquished,  and  the  youthful  victor,  full  of  vigor  and  virility, 
is  in  turn  the  paramour  of  the  herd.  Now  if  we  admit  the  influence  of  the 
male  animal  to  be  the  greatest,  we  have  here  the  most  perfect  adaptation  for 
the  weeding  of  the  herd,  and  the  best  constitutioned  bull  is  parent  of  the 
whole  race  for  one  or  two  years  of  production.  It  is  wonderful  then  that 
they  have  no  points,  no  superiority,  no  distinctiveness  of  breeding  ; there  is 
no  selection  of  adaptation,  of  symmetry,  even  of  semblance,  but  there  is 
strength  of  constitution  in  the  male — the  quality  above  all  others  for  securing 
strength  of  constitution,  hardness,  and  size  in  the  offspring.  And  assuming 
that  this  tyrant  strength  in  the  leader  of  the  herd  will  continue  for  three  suc- 
cessive years — a thing  extremely  probable,  there  is  a degree  of  consangui- 
nity which  few  breeders  will  attempt.  It  may  be  said  of  Mr.  Bates’s  herd, 
whose  quality  is  unsurpassed,  now  that  he  is  dead,  that  the  heifers  were 
frequently  bulled  by  their  own  grandfather,  or  the  cow  by  her  grandson. 
And  this  was  not  more  irregular  than  the  wild  habits  of  the  whole  herd  at 
Chillingham,  when  the  daughter,  if  not  the  grand-daughter,  must  breed  with 
the  grandsire  or  the  sire. 

Nor  wrere  Mr.  Bates  and  Mr.  Bakewell  alone ; Mr.  Colling  bred  his 
animals  in  very  close  affinity,  and  Mr.  Mason,  of  Chilton,  second  only  to  Mr. 
Colling,  was  an  in-and-in  breeder.  No  one  will  accuse  Mr.  Bates,  however, 
after  a jubilee  (or  period  of  fifty  years)  of  in-and-in  breeding  of  the  closest 
kind,  of  having  either  a small  sized  or  feeble  herd. 


TIIE  PRINCIPLES  OF  CATTLE  BREEDING. 


45 


The  very  opposite  to  consanguineous  breeding  is  the  system  of  crossing. 
When  two  distinct  kinds  of  animals  are  made  to  breed  with  each  other,  a 
distinct  variety  is  produced,  called  a hybrid  or  mule.  Now  there  is  not, 
externally,  a greater  difference  between  a Shetland  pony  and  a donkey, 
than  there  is  between  a Durham  short-horn  and  an  Irish  long-horn.  But 
zoologically  there  is  a more  marked  and  distinct  dissimilarity.  Now,  when 
the  zoological  difference  is  beyond  a given  range,  nature  interposes  and  will 
permit  no  future  admixture.  Mules  are  almost  invariably  unproductive. 
But  with  ill-assorted  crosses  of  different  breeds  of  cattle  she  operates 
another  way.  The  union  of  a male  and  female,  of  different  qualities,  pro- 
duces, sometimes,  a happy  combination  of  the  qualities  of  the  two,  and 
considerable  uniformity  in  the  produce  ; but  the  union  of  these  products 
again,  amongst  each  other,  instead  of  inducing  a greater  uniformity,  ends  in 
a crowd  of  mongrels,  differing  from  each  other  as  much  as  from  their  grand- 
sires,  and  possessing  the  conformations  and  qualities  of  neither. 

For  instance,  a cross  was  attempted  between  the  Herefords  and  the 
Devons — the  fat  forming  Hereford,  and  the  active  working  Devon.  The 
cross  was  a failure.  The  power  and  activity  of  the  Devons  were  lost,  their 
working  qualities  impaired,  and  still  they  did  not  fatten  like  the  Herefords. 
A cross  of  the  same  with  the  Alderney  improved  indeed  the  dairy  qualities 
of  the  breed,  but  lost  the  muscle  so  necessary  for  work  and  the  capacity  for 
feeding,  so  that  this  cross  was  also  a failure.  Again  a cross  has  been 
attempted  between  the  Hereford  and  the  Kyloe.  This,  it  might  be  supposed, 
would  improve  the  back  of  the  Hereford,  give  hardness,  and  keep  up  the 
aptitude  to  fatten  ; but  no,  the  cross  had  the  fattening  qualities  of  neither, 
and  the  quietness  of  the  Hereford  was  lost  in  the  wild  habits  of  the  Kyloe, 
although  the  bull  was  a Hereford,  and  the  cows  were  of  the  Highland  breed. 

Where  a large  and  powerful-framed  animal  is  covered  with  a short-horn 
bull,  quality  and  aptitude  to  fatten  is  given.  To  go  further  is  not  judicious  ; 
to  attempt  a cross  with  a milk-producing  cow  is  unnatural  and  absurd  ; but 
there  is  no  sort  of  large  framed  animal  intended  for  the  grazier,  which 
would  not  be  improved  by  a cross  with  the  short-horn  for  one  generation. 
With  the  smaller  West  Highland  cattle(  even  for  grazing,  we  should  have 
doubts.  They  live  in  a hard,  bleak  district  to  which  a dash  of  short-horn 
blood,  however  small,  could  hardly  ever  accommodate  itself ; but  to  the  larger 
Scottish  breeds  a single  crossing  would  be  invaluable.  This  may  be  strikingly 
instanced  in  the  case  of  a cross  between  a short- horn  bull  and  a large  Aber- 
deenshire cow,  to  which  was  awarded  the  prize  by  the  Highland  and  Agri- 
cultural Society  of  Scotland  in  1834.  The  live  weight  of  this  cow  was  224 
stone,  of  8 lbs.  to  the  stone ; and  she  weighed  when  killed  173  stone  3 pounds. 

To  attempt  a greater  proportion  of  short-horn  blood  is  to  run  a risk  of 
osing  the  hardihood  of  the  northern  tribes  of  cattle,  without  giving  much 
more  aptitude  to  fatten.  It  is  certainly  true  that  the  matuiity  of  the  breed* 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


might  be  accelerated.  We  might  see  the  Galloway  a cow  at  two  years  old, 
but  even  this  must  arrest  the  hardihood  of  the  breed,  would  impair  its  en- 
durance of  a northern  blast,  and  waste  in  winter  the  advantage  gained  in 
summer. 

It  is  questionable,  however,  where  crossing  stops.  Some  very  grave  facts 
have  been  arranged  and  classified  to  show  that  when  a pure-breed  animal 
has  once  been  impregnated  by  one  of  another  breed,  such  impregnated  ani- 
mal is  thereby  for  ever  afterwards  a cross,  and  may  be  expected  to  produce 
cross-bred,  and  no  more  pure-bred  young.  But  the  notion  is  capable  of  be- 
ing carried  further  still,  that  a female  animal  will  always  produce  young  re- 
sembling in  character  the  animal  by  which  she  was  first  impregnated,  whe- 
ther of  a cross-breed  or  of  the  same  breed  as  herself. 

Now,  if  this  approaches  to  correctness,  and  if  a single  cross  will  stamp  its 
character  for  ever  upon  the  animal  which  is  the  subject  of  it,  there  arises 
the  necessity  for  the  utmost  caution  in  selecting  a male  animal,  especially  iu 
the  first  impregnation  of  the  female. 

The  hypothesis  of  Dr.  Harvey  of  Aberdeen,  and  Professor  M‘Gillivray  is, 
that  the  intimate  connection,  at  least  in  bovine  animals,  between  the  foetus 
and  its  mother, — consisting  of  an  absolute  circulation  of  the  blood  of  the 
foetus  through  the  veins  of  the  mother,  and  vice  versa, — so  impregnates  the 
mother  with  the  vital  functions  of  the  sire,  as  to  render  her  for  ever  after- 
wards incapable  of  transmitting  her  own  unimpaired  qualities  to  her  progeny, 
making  her  indeed  to  partake  of  the  character  of  her  first  young,  whatever 
be  the  defects  or  peculiarities  of  the  sire.* 

The  case  of  the  Earl  of  Morton’s  chestnut  mare,  which  was  put  to  a 
quagga,  or  wrild  ass,  is  well  known.  The  produce  gave  the  most  unmistake- 
able  signs  of  the  quagga  in  its  head,  its  ears,  its  stripe  on  its  shoulders,  &c. 
Afterwards,  in  three  successive  seasons,  the  mare  was  put  to  a black  Arabian 
horse,  and  in  as  many  years  did  the  foal  strictly  resemble  the  quagga. 

We  shall  give  one  instance  more,  tending  to  show  that  the  effect  is  iu 
some  cases  produced  through  the  imagination  of  the  mother.  Mr.  Boswell 
relates  what  he  considered  a well  authenticated  instance  of  a hornless  cow 
coming  in  season  when  one  of  his  neighbor’s  horned  black  and  white  oxen 
broke  over  the  fence,  and  accompanied  the  cow  home  to  the  bull ; both  the 
sire  and  the  dam  were  black  and  hornless,  nor  had  the  farmer  any  horned  or 
spotted  beast  on  his  farm.  The  produce  of  the  cow  was  black  and  white, 
and  in  due  time  its  horns  grew  resembling  those  of  the  ox.  If  the  same 
neighbor  had  not  also  a black  and  white  horned  bull,  the  fact  is  very  im- 
portant ! 

Little  as  these  facts  prove  in  themselves,  they  raise  a doubt  as  to  whether 
the  imagination  of  the  mother  may  not  in  some  indescribable  way  or  other, 

* The  facts  to  contradict  this  hypothesis  are  so  numerous,  that  its  refutation  is  us^ 
less. — Am.  Ed. 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  CATTLE  BREEDING. 


47 


operate  upon  the  offspring ; however,  it  is  evidently  for  safer  to  run  no  risks 
with  very  superior  animals,  and  to  cross  only  with  those  when  subsequent 
progeny  was  of  less  consequence. 

It  is  sometimes  desirable  that  the  farmer  should  possess  the  power  of 
controlling  the  ratio  of  the  sexes  in  the  animals  he  breeds.  The  wonderful 
ratio  in  which  they  are  produced  in  nature,  is  one  proof  of  the  all-wise  pro- 
visions of  the  Almighty  in  making  them  subject  to  certain  laws.  Many  in- 
vestigations have  been  made  to  show  how  far  this  is  within  the  control  of 
man.  A dairy  man  is  particularly  interested  in  the  production  of  heifer 
calves,  wherewith  to  increase  his  dairy  stock ; a grazier  may  be  equally  de- 
sirous of  producing  bullocks  for  large  weights  and  summer  grazing;  while 
a breeder  for  sale  may  be  anxious  to  see  a goodly  proportion  of  bulls. 
How  far  can  he  control  this  production  ? is  a question  of  interest  and  im- 
portance. Hofkener,  a German,  made  some  calculations  as  regards  the 
human  species,  which  tended  to  show  that  where  the  father  was  younger 
than  the  mother,  the  proportion  of  male  births  to  females  was  90.6  per  cent. ; 
when  of  equal  age,  90  per  cent. ; but  when  the  age  of  the  father  was  greater 
than  the  mother,  nine  to  eighteen  years,  it  was  143  per  cent. 

Similar  in  principle  was  the  experience  of  M.  C.  C.  de  Buzareurgnes,  who 
professed  to  have  the  power  of  controlling  the  sexes  in  sheep  ; his  principle 
being  the  same  as  the  above,  viz.,  that  vigor  was  favorable  to  female,  and 
the  converse  to  male  births  For  females,  he  proposed  to  select  young  rams, 
and  place  them  in  a good  pasture ; for  males,  three  to  five  shear  animals, 
and  to  place  them  in  an  inferior  pasture.  His  experiment  was  successful. 
In  his  female  trial  there  were  seventy-six  female  lambs  produced  against 
thirty-five  males  ; and,  in  his  male  trial,  there  were  produced  eighty  males 
against  fifty-five  females.  Another  trial  was  made  by  M.  Cournuejouls. 
One  section  was  put  to  young  male  lambs,  and  on  a good  pasture  ; the  other 
on  a poorer  pasture,  and  with  old  rams.  The  result  was,  that  in  the  first 
experiment  there  were  fifteen  males  and  twenty-five  females,  and,  in  the 
second,  there  were  twenty-six  males  and  fourteen  females. 

Buzareurgnes  also  showed  that  in  several  lots  the  approximations  to  male 
or  female  births,  were  also  in  the  ratio  of  the  ages  of  the  animals  on  both 
sides.  Thus,  of  the  young  ewes  put  to  the  young  rams,  the  two-year  old 
ewes  produced  fourteen  males  and  twenty-six  females,  the  three-year  old 
gave  sixteen  males  and  twenty-nine  females;  whereas  the  four-year  old 
ewes,  to  the  aged  rams,  and  on  the  poor  pasture,  produced  thirty-three  males 
and  fourteen  females. 

More  than  this  is  not  known  ; but  there  is  quite  sufficient  to  indicate  that 
the  breeder  possesses  at  least  considerable  power  in  controlling  the  propor- 
tion of  the  sexes,  and  that  the  more  vigor  he  has  of  frame  and  food,  the 
greater  will  be  the  proportion  of  females  ; and  that  the  converse  will  hold 
equally  good.  There  is  enough  in  the  principle  to  deserve  a trial. 


43 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY, 


CHAPTER  V. 

DAIRY  MANAGEMENT. 

Of  all  kinds  of  food  nilk  is  one  of  the  most  important ; perhaps  it  is  the 
only  one  which  contains  within  itself  all  the  elements  of  food,  and  in  such  a 
form  as  may  be  most  easily  assimilated,  and  rendered  fit  for  the  building  up 
a feeble  and  delicate  structure.  This  nourishing  substance,  referring  espe- 
cially to  the  milk  of  the  cow,  contains  a variety  of  proximate  and  ultimate 
principles  ; and  every  part  of  it  is  more  or  less  useful  in  providing  food  for 
mankind.  In  one  or  other  of  its  forms  it  is  in  great  request,  either  as  a ne- 
cessary of  life,  or  an  article  of  luxury.  The  young  of  our  large  and  popu- 
lous cities  make  it  a considerable  portion  of  their  food ; in  the  shape  of 
cream,  the  almost  universal  consumptiot  of  tea  and  coffee  has  placed  it  on 
the  tables  of  the  rich  and  the  lowly.  In  the  shape  of  butter  it  is  again  pre- 
sent at  our  tables  as  a condiment  to  our  bread,  and  an  ingredient  in  our 
pastry ; while  as  cheese  it  again  appears  either  as  part  of  the  diet  of  the 
poor,  or  a conclusion  to  the  feast  of  the  rich ; not  to  mention  other  produc- 
tions which  the  cuisine  art  has  taught  mankind  the  use  of,  to  pamper  the  ap- 
petite and  increase  the  means  of  luxurious' gratification. 

Milk  consists  chemically  of  three  parts  ; — a watery  portion,  in  which  its 
sugar  and  salts  are  dissolved  ; an  oily,  and  a solid  and  albuminous  principle 
it  thus  affords  in  turn  a supply  of  the  materials  for  replacing  the  waste  of 
the  old,  or  constructing  the  new  animal  which  partakes  of  it.  The  saline 
and  saccharine  part  forms  at  once  the  solids  of  the  system,  and  the  means  of 
sustaining  animal  heat ; the  oleaginous  furnishes  the  reservoir  of  fat,  to  be 
available  in  times  of  adolescence  or  scarcity;  while  the  albuminous  part 
gives  the  means  of  forming  sinew  and  muscle. 

A little  before  parturition,  the  new  sympathies  of  the  system  cause  the 
mammiferous  glands  to  swell  and  enlarge ; adolescent  before,  they  now  be- 
come ready  for  energetic  action ; and  no  sooner  is  the  young  brought  forth, 
than  the  aliment  of  nature  is  ready  for  the  sustenance  of  the  being  which, 
so  short  a time  before,  derived  its  subsistence  from  an  internal,  as  it  is  now 
preparing  to  do  from  an  external  source. 

If  the  milk  taken  from  the  cow  be  allowed  to  stand  in  a shallow  dish, 
a change  takes  place  in  its  appearance  as  soon  as  the  cooling  process  begins. 
A whitish-yellow  substance,  thicker  than  the  milk,  separates  from  it,  and 
swrims  on  the  top,  forming  an  adhesive  coat,  covering  the  whole — this  is  the 
cream,  the  richest  part  of  the  milk — leaving  the  mass  below  thinner,  and 
often  of  a bluish  tinge,  well  known  as  skimmed,  or  blue  milk.  If  the  up- 
per layer  is  examined  by  the  microscope,  it  will  be  found  to  consist  of  a 


DAIRr  MANAGEMENT. 


49 


large  accumulation  of  minute  globules;  these  globules  are  the  oily  or 
butyraceous  parts  of  the  milk,  coated  with  a thin  covering  of  a more  solid 
substance ; and  this  may  be  separated  from  the  mass  almost  entire.  Here 
you  have  the  greatest  part  of  the  butter,  with  some  mixture  of  other  mat- 
ters. The  greatest  part  we  say,  for  some  of  the  globules  of  oil  or  fatty  mat- 
ter, are  still  suspended  in  the  milky  mass. 

If  the  milk  so  skimmed  is  allowed  to  remain,  a change  takes  place,  more 
or  less  rapid,  according  to  the  temperature.  In  hot  weather  this  is  very  ra- 
pid indeed.  The  albuminous  or  solid  portion  of  the  milk,  is  one  which  con- 
tains an  ammoniacal  principle,  and  is  liable  to  run  very  rapidly  to  decay.  It 
begins  to  ferment,  and  an  acid  is  formed,  which  immediately  joins  the  solid 
parts  of  the  milk  by  uniting  with  an  alkali,  which  keeps  the  solid  part  of 
the  milk  in  a state  of  solution ; under  these  circumstances  are  formed  two 
substtnces,  technically  known  as  curds  and  whey.  The  solid  portions  are 
distinctly  developed,  and  fall  down — these  are  the  curds;  the  watery  par- 
ticles in  which  they  were  before  dissolved,  are  also  determined,  and  become 
the  whey. 

If  these  be  now  separated,  the  solid  parts — acted  upon  by  the  changing 
agency  of  the  nitrogenous  matter,  having  moisture,  heat  and  air  added — soon 
show  signs  of  putrefaction ; mouldiness  and  decay  induce  the  deposit  of  the 
eggs  of  innumerable  insects,  and  the  whole  mass  very  soon  becomes  a heap 
of  putrefaction.  If  the  wThey,  or  watery  part,  is  then  suffered  to  ferment, 
and  this  is  exposed  to  sufficient  heat  and  plenty  of  air,  another  kind  of  fer- 
mentation will  take  place,  and  a slightly  alcoholic  drink  will  be  produced, 
which  is  used  for  exhilarating  or  intoxicating  purposes  by  some  of  the  in- 
habitants of  the  north-east  of  Asia. 

As  the  separation  of  the  cream  from  the  milk  does  not  take  away  all  the 
oily  or  butyraceous  matter  from  the  milk,  neither  does  it  remove  the  whole 
of  the  solid  (caseous)  matter  from  the  cream.  The  envelope  of  the  oleagi- 
nous globules  is  of  this  same  albuminous  and  changing  substance,  and  in  this, 
by  absorbing  oxygen  from  the  air,  a change  also  takes  place — curds  and  whey 
are  formed  in  the  cream  itself,  but  intermixed  with  a considerable  quantity 
of  butter.  This  butter  may  be  separated  in  various  ways;  heat  will  send  it 
to  the  surface  by  breaking  the  enveloping  globules  of  casein ; but  being 
merely  animal  oil  it  has  an  insipid  taste,  and  is  very  different  from  our  table 
better.  Agitation,  with  warmth,  especially  after  incipient  fermentation  has 
gone  on,  is  the  most  effectual  mode  of  breaking  down  the  globules,  by  frac- 
turing their  enveloping  skin,  and  this  is  the  well  known  process  of  churning 
of  which  we  shall  speak  more  fully  in  viewing  the  several  dairy  systems. 

Let  it  be  remembered  first  of  all,  in  considering  the  constituents  of  milk, 
that  in  every  iuO  parts  it  contains  87  parts  of  water,  something  more  than 
4 2 parts  of  sugar,  a little  more  than  3 parts  of  butter,  something  beyond  one- 
half  part  of  saline  matter,  and  4^  parts  of  cheesy  matter  (curd  or  casein) 

3 


60 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


Its  weight,  from  containing  so  many  matters  in  suspension  and  solution,  u 
some  three  per  cent,  greater  than  that  of  water.  The  milk  of  different  ani- 
mals, however,  contains  different  properties,  and  is  different  again  according 
to  the  bree.’,  food,  and  treatment  of  the  animals.  The  following  exhibits  a 
few  of  these  differences : 


Cow. 

Woman. 

Ass. 

Ewe. 

Mare. 

Casein 

(curd)  4.5  . 

1.5 

1.8 

. 4.5 

1.6 

Butter 

3.1  .. 

3.6 

0 1 

. 4.2 

trace. 

Sugar  . 

> • • • • 6.5  •••••• 

6.1 

. 5.0 

8.7 

Salts 

0.6  ., 

* • • • • 0.5  •••••• 

0.3 

. 0.7 

| 89.6 

Water 

87.9 

91.7  

.85.6 

100 

100 

100 

100 

100 

Now  all  dairy  operations  are  aids  for  developing,  or  arresting,  these  natu- 
ral changes  of  milk ; and  if  we  give  a faint  outline  here  of  the  principles  of 
these  processes,  it  will  very  much  assist  in  determining  the  relative  value  of 
the  different  dairy  systems  when  we  come  to  details. 

The  object  of  the  dairyman  is  sometimes  to  assist,  and  sometimes  to  retard 
these  natural  stages  of  decomposition  into  which  the  milk  will  run  when 
left  to  itself;  sometimes  it  is  necessary  to  defer,  sometimes  to  hasjen  these 
stages,  and  he  possesses  great  power  for  controlling  them.  Thus  heat,  it  will 
be  seen,  is  necessary  to  all  these  stages  of  action.  Hence  in  winter  he  can 
easily  arrest,  and  by  artificial  application  as  easily  advance,  the  manipulations 
of  his  craft.  But  in  summer  it  is  not  so  easy  to  control.  He  has  often  to  be 
in  his  dairy  watching  his  milk  under  the  influence  of  the  sun’s  rays  ; and  he 
contrives  his  dairy  so  as  to  keep  out  the  hot  rays  of  the  sun  as  far  as  possi- 
ble ; or  he  endeavors,  by  evaporation  or  profound  shade,  to  counteract  their 
influence. 

To  begin  with  the  new  milk,  it  is  by  no  means  necessary  that  the  cream 
should  be  separated  from  the  milk.  If  butter  be  the  object,  it  can  be  attain- 
ed without  any  separation  of  the  cream.  There  are  two  modes  of  breaking 
the  globules  of  casein,  one  by  the  application  of  a gradually  increasing  gentle 
heat  to  the  new  milk,  until  the  buttery  matter  floats  at  the  top,  which  is  then 
taken  almost  in  a boiling  state  and  churned  to  butter  in  a very  few  minutes. 
The  other  is,  by  at  once  applying  the  beaters  of  the  churn  to  the  whole  mass 
of  the  milk ; but,  as  the  bulk  of  liquid  is  so  much  greater  in  the  latter  case 
than  in  the  former,  and  skim-milk  is  of  greater  value  than  butter-milk,  it  is 
much  less  frequently  resorted  to. 

Generally  the  cream  is  allowed  time  to  ferment.  This  process  aids  in 
breaking  dowm  the  structure  of  the  enveloping  skin,  in  precipitating  the  ca- 
sein of  the  mass,  and  thus  assisting  the  maturation  and  development  of  the 
but/*r.  In  churning,  the  heat  of  the  mass  rises  from  five  t(  ten  degrees» 


DAIRY  MANAGEMENT. 


51 


and  in  very  cold  weather  it  is  sometimes  necessary  to  pour  in  boiling  water 
in  order  to  obtain  the  necessary  heat.  This  heat  is  also  indispensable  in  se- 
parating the  cream.  At  a temperature  nearly  freezing  it  will  rise  with 
difficulty ; perhaps  the  most  regular  and  healthy  temperature  is  55°,  but  so 
rapidly  does  it  rise  at  76°  or  77°  as  to  require  great  skill  and  watching  to 
prevent  the  whole  of  the  mass  becoming  sour.  At  the  first-named  tempera- 
ture it  will  be  perfectly  raised  in  twenty-four  hours,  and  may  be  kept  two 
/ieals  ; but  in  the  latter  state  of  the  temperature  it  will  be  complete  in  ten 
or  twelve  hours.  As  the  globules  have  to  rise  by  specific  gravity  chiefly,  it 
is  desirable  that  the  milk  should  be  disposed  in  shallow  dishes.  Glass  is 
clean  and  beautiful,  and  porcelain  is  fashionable,  but  lead  is  the  old-fashioned 
and  useful  medium,  retaining  the  heat  of  the  hot  water  from  the  scalding 
process  in  winter,  and  slowly  conducting  the  heat  after  the  cooling  from  eva- 
poration after  the  same  scalding  in  summer.  The  desirable  temperature  in 
churning  cream  is  54°  to  55°,  a degree  of  heat  preservable  only  in  summer 
by  early  churning,  and  in  winter  by  raising  the  temperature  by  scalding  the 
churn  before  that  process,  with  boiling  water,  heating  the  cream  at  the  fire 
before  placing  it  in  the  churn,  or  by  adding  boiling  water  to  the  mass  in  the 
churn. 

Besides  the  matter  we  have  alluded  to  as  being  present  in  milk,  and  con- 
sequently in  its  products,  we  must  not  omit  the  aroma  of  the  food  consumed 
by  the  cow.  In  the  case  of  turnips  this  is  very  distinct,  and  sometimes  very 
disagreeable, — causing  even  pastry  to  partake  of  the  undesirable  flavor.  In 
the  spring  of  the  year  milk  will  even  have  a bitter  taste,  from  the  vigor 
and  freshness  of  the  herbs  consumed  by  the  cows  at  that  season ; but  the 
change  from  the  insipidity  of  milk  and  butter  produced  by  hay-fed  animals 
in  winter  is  so  great  that  even  that  is  agreeable. 

Immediately  after  calving  the  milk  is  thick  and  yellow ; in  this  state  it  is 
called  “ beestings”  or  “beaslings ;”  this  is  more  abundant  in  casein  or  curd, 
and  on  this  account  often  forms  part  of  the  elements  of  the  curd  sold  for  the 
purpose  of  making  cheesecakes.  Chevalier  and  Henri  gave  the  composition 
of  these  as  fol low's : — Mucus,  2.0;  butter,  2.6;  casein,  15.0;  water,  80.3. 
The  afterings  or  strippings,  in  other  words  the  last  milk  taken  from  the  ud- 
der of  the  cowr,  are  by  far  the  most  abundant  both  in  cheese  and  butter, 
and  hence  some  dairymen  make  it  a practice  always  to  strip  their  cows 
themselves,  even  when  the  milking  has  been  left  to  their  servants. 

We  give  two  forms  of  a lactometer.  This  instrument  is  designed  to  test 
the  cream  qualities  of  milk.  Pour  the  milk  into  the  tubes,  and  the 
cream,  when  risen,  will  show  how  rich  the  milk  is.  The  depth  of  cream  will 
be  shown  by  the  figures  on  the  tubes.  By  the  lactometer  the  difference  in 
the  quality  of  the  milk  of  different  cowrs  may  be  readily  ascertained. 

The  qualities  of  cream  vary  much  in  the  different  breeds,  depending  on 
the  modes  of  management,  as  w^ell  as  the  food.  Thus,  in  some  experiments 


52 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


made,  It  required  twelve  quarts  from  a short-horn  cow  to  produce  one 
pound  or  Butter — something  like  a day’s  supply  of  milk;  while  nine  and  a 


half  quarts  of  an  Ayrshire  cow’s  would  give  the  same  quantity ; but  it  is  often 
very  variable  in  the  same  animal  at  different  periods,  and  different  animals 
of  the  same  breed  will  produce  very  different  results  both  in  cream  and 
butter. 

The  churning  operation  is  usually  most  successful  when  somewhat 
speedily  performed.  Though  55°  may  be  the  most  desirable  heat,  it  some- 


DAIRY  MANAGEMENT. 


5 S 

times  require  more.  If  the  cows  of  the  dairy  have  all  been  long  calved 
and  the  weather  be  cold  and  stormy,  the  operation  becomes  long  and  pro 
tracted ; and  when  ten  and  twelve,  and  even  fourteen  hours,  have  been  con- 
sumed in  churning,  not  a few  charms  have  been  invented  to  hasten  it.  Usu- 
ally, however,  if  briskly  turned,  it  will  be  effectual  in  twenty  minutes. 
The  first  sign  of  butter  is  when  the  caseous  matter  is  separating  from  the 
butyraceous.  The  brisk  motion  requisite  to  produce  this  state  of  things 
must  now  be  softened,  when  the  small  particles  of  butter  begin  to  adhere  to 
each  other;  then  the  butter-milk  must  be  partially  let  off,  and  the  gathering 
process,  which  will  continue  for  ten  minutes  more,  will  be  complete. 

The  butter,  however,  is  still  in  a state  far  from  being  fit  for  use.  It  con- 
tains much  of  the  cheesy  matter,  and  repeated  washings  in  cold  water  are 
necessary  to  secure  its  removal.  If  this  should  not  be  carefully  done,  the 
butter  will  soon  become  rancid.  The  tendency  in  the  caseous  matter  to 
decay  will  induce  its  speedy  decomposition,  and  the  formation  of  a variety 
of  substances,  especially  butyric  acid,  which  has  a most  disagreeable  smell. 
For  the  same  reason,  it  is  essentially  necessary  to  observe  the  utmost  clean- 
liness in  the  dairy.  Fresh  beef  placed  in  a basket  or  in  a room  where  beef 
has  been  in  a state  of  decay  before,  will  soon  putrefy ; and  a very  little  pu- 
trefied milk  spilled  upon  the  ground,  or  left  in  the  churn,  the  pail,  or  the 
bowl,  will  soon  so  communicate  itself  to  the  whole  of  the  milk  and  cream 
in  the  dairy  as  to  spoil  churning  after  churning  of  the  butter  it  contains. 

Professor  Trail  made  several  experiments  with  the  different  modes  of 
churning.  He  tried  the  churning  of  fresh  cream,  of  fresh  milk,  of  soured 
milk  and  cream  together,  and  of  the  scalded  cream ; the  results  of  these  ex- 
periments were  not  very  different  from  what  had  been  previously  taught. 
His  results  were,  first,  that  the  addition  of  cold  water  to  thick  cream  in  hot 
weather  assisted  the  churning  by  facilitating  the  separation  of  the  butter  ; 
then,  that  cream  alone,  in  whatever  state,  churned  with  more  facility  than 
when  mixed  with  milk ; that  butter  from  fresh  cream  is  the  finest,  and 
keeps  the  best,  but  the  butter-milk  from  this  is  somewhat  poorer ; that  the 
scalding  of  the  cream,  after  the  Devonshire  method  before  alluded  to,  yields 
the  largest  quantity  of  butter,  but  requires  immediate  use,  as  it  soon  becomes 
rancid ; his  last  remark  is,  that  the  most  economical  mode  is  to  allow  the 
cream  to  be  soured,  or  fermented,  as  it  is  sometimes  called — though  it  is  a 
change  which  is  not  strictly  fermentative — because,  by  this  process,  it  yields 
the  largest  quantity  of  butter,  and  the  butter-milk  is  also  the  best. 

Circumstances,  as  well  as  peculiarity  in  the  management,  will  have  great 
influence  on  the  flavor  of  the  butter.  Thus,  where  calves  are  fatted  for 
veal,  there  is  often  the  best  butter.  The  calves  are  allowed  to  suck  the 
cows  before  the  milk  is  taken  for  the  dairy.  In  this  case,  the  calves  get  the 
solid  and  saccharine  part  of  the  milk,  and  the  dairyman  gets  all  the  after- 
ings  ; and  hence  he  gets  a large  quantity  and  a rich  quality  of  butter.  The 


54 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


Bretagne  butter,  so  celebrated  in  France,  owes  its  peculiar  qualities  to  the 
mode  of  its  manufacture.  It  is  in  such  demand  that  it  becomes  a manufac- 
turing process ; and  hence  it  is  made  in  large  quantities — a circumstance  al- 
ways favorable  to  the  quality  of  butter.  The  process  followed  with  this 
butter  is  as  follows : after  churning  and  washing,  the  butter  is  steeped  or 
sprinkled  plentifully  with  new  milk,  and  kneaded  into  cylindrical  cakes,  and 
placed,  for  a few  minutes,  in  a sort  of  covered  frying  pan,  with  heated  coke 
both  below  and  above.  It  is  then  taken  out,  and  is  fit  for  immediate  use. 
The  flavor  is  peculiar,  and  the  butter  particularly  rich  in  flavor. 

The  real  secret  of  butter-making  it  appears  to  us  is,  so  to  arrange  the 
temperature  of  the  dairy , and  the  churn,  as  just  to  maintain  the  requisite  de- 
gree for  thoroughly  separating  the  cream  ; but  not  so  great  as  to  render  the 
whole  over  sour.  If  too  cold,  the  butter  will  separate  badly,  the  churning 
will  be  long  and  tedious,  the  butter  full  of  breaks,  pale  in  colour,  and  brittle 
in  texture  ; and  if,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  too  hot,  it  will  be  light  and  oily.  It  is 
also  essential  that  the  cows  should  not  have  calved  too  long.  This  will  re- 
tard the  churning  process,  and  have  a tendency  to  make  the  butter  both  bit- 
ter and  unpleasant.  Perhaps  the  best  butter  will  be  made  from  one  half 
soured  cream  and  the  remainder  fresh.  Enough  of  the  lactic  acid  will  be 
formed  in  this  portion  to  facilitate  the  churning,  and  enough  caseous  matter 
will  be  left  in  the  other  to  prevent  its  being  tasteless. 

If  butter  has  to  be  kept,  means  must  be  adopted  for  its  preservation.  The 
souring  change  soon  proceeds ; the  butyraceous  matter  changes  also  into 
several  disagreeably  smelling  acids.  The  first  mode  of  preservation  is  by 
salting.  If  it  is  to  be  removed  far,  it  may  be  necessary  also  to  pack  it  away, 
and  exclude  the  air.  Hence,  when  it  is  made  on  a large  scale,  it  is  put  in 
firkins,  or  casks,  holding  from  40  to  70  pounds,  which  are  carefully  fast- 
ened up  by  the  cooper  so  as  to  exclude  the  air.  Salt  is  well  known  to  have 
the  power  of  preventing  animal  matter  from  falling  into  the  putrefactive 
state,  by  means  of  its  peculiar  antiseptic  power,  preventing  the  caseous  mat- 
ter of  the  butter  from  becoming  putrid,  and  running  on  in  its  course  of  decay. 
But  such  is  the  affinity  of  salt  for  the  moisture  of  the  atmosphere,  that  the 
outer  portions  of  the  butter  soon  become  subject  to  the  changes  which  con- 
tact writh  the  atmosphere  produces ; in  order,  therefore,  to  keep  it  for  any 
length  of  time,  it  must  either  be  covered  with  a saturated  solution  of  salt,  or 
with  a syrup  of  sugar,  which  has  the  same  effect;  otherwise  it  must  be 
placed  in  air-tight,  or  nearly  air-tight  casks,  having  the  top  and  bottom 
dredged  with  salt.  In  fact,  the  more  moisture  is  attracted  from  the  atmo- 
sphere, the  more  closely  will  the  wood  of  the  cask  adhere,  and  vice  versa  ; 
a very  important  means  of  preservation  is  thus  afforded  to  the  dairyman, 
and  to  the  inhabitants  of  our  large  towns,  for  without  this,  even  with  all  our 
facilities  for  railway  transit,  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  a constant  supply 
^•ould  be  maintained.  The  firkins  made  in  summer  are  opened  in  winter 


DAIRY  MANAGEMENT. 


55 


and,  though  not  so  rich  in  their  contents  as  the  fresh  products  from  the  dairy, 
they  form  a second-rate  class  of  butter,  by  no  means  disagreeable. 

When  these  are  opened  for  use,  a very  free  washing  should  be  given  them, 
to  wash  out  the  soluble  lactic  acid ; and  the  butter  should  afterwards  be  well 
washed,  and  kneaded  in  new  milk.  This  gives  it  much  freshness  and  flavor, 
W’hich  improves  and  renders  it,  if  well  made  and  packed,  much  more  pleas- 
ant than  some  of  the  turnip-flavored  fresh  butter  made  in  winter. 

When  once  the  rancid  taste  has  been  acquired,  it  is  never  again  fit  for  the 
table  ; but  it  may  be  so  purified  as  to  be  by  no  means  useless  for  pastry  pur- 
poss.  The  disagreeable  acids  are  all,  to  a certain  extent,  soluble  in  water. 
Butter  should,  therefore,  be  placed,  in  clear  fresh  spring  water,  over  a slow 
fire,  and  kept  there  until  the  vrater  boils.  This  will  evaporate,  wash  out, 
and  volatilize  the  acids.  It  may  then  be  skimmed  off,  and  again  put  in 
fresh  cold  water,  again  to  undergo  the  boiling  process.  If  after  this  it  be 
washed  thoroughly,  it  will  be  found  free  from  any  bad  effects  upon  pastry, 
but  very  insipid,  and  unfit  for  the  table. 

As  to  the  form  of  churn  there  may  be  a variety  of  opinions.  The  ulti- 
mate object  is  to  secure  that  form,  which  will  facilitate  a rapid,  steady,  and 
shaking  pressure  of  the  contents ; and  this  is  effected  either  by  a flapper, 
driven  through  the  cream,  at  a considerable  rate,  by  means  of  a piston  with 
a perforated  base  ; by  a perpendicular  motion,  raised  up  and  down  in  a cylin- 
drical or  similarly  formed  vessel ; or,  what  is  more  common,  and  by  no 
means  the  worst  form  of  churn,  a cylinder  studded  with  perforated  beaters, 
fastened  to  its  inner  surface,  and  revolving  round  its  two  axles,  admitting  of 
one  handle  or  two,  according  to  the  quantity  of  the  cream.  By  this  means 
the  specific  gravity  of  the  cream,  as  well  as  the  force  and  impetus  of  the  ma- 
clrne,  are  both  brought  into  play  to  excite  the  heat,  the  pressure,  and  the 
ag  tatifl  n necessary  to  the  proper  and  speedy  development  of  the  butter.  To 


BARREL  CHURN. 

this  norse  or  steam  power  may  be  easily  attached,  and  though  there  have 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


56 

been  many  forms  of  churn  in  use,  we  are  not  certain  that  any  very  great 
improvement  on  the  above  form  has  so  far  been  discovered.  Plans  have 
been  adopted  to  diminish  the  labor,  but  this  has  often  ended  in  defective  op- 
eration. The  American  and  the  table  churns,  available  for  the  extempo- 
raneous manufacture  of  butter  every  morning  for  the  tables  of  the  rich,  are 
so  far  a step  in  advance,  and  a luxury ; but  for  the  large  operation  of  the 
dairy-faimer,  a better  application  than  the  churn  of  his  forefathers  has  not 


BARREL  CHURN  WITH  THERMOMETER  ATTACHED. 

yet  been  discovered.  We  give  a sketch  of  useful  kinds  of  modern  churns. 
These  are  essentially  the  same.  Into  the  wood  of  the  larger  one  is  let  a 
thermometer,  and  it  is  in  contact  with  the  cream,  and  indicates  temperature. 

The  principles  of  cheese-making  are,  in  many  respects,  those  applied  to  the 
manufacture  of  butter ; but  the  object  being  to  a certain  extent  different, 
they  apply  in  a different  manner.  The  production  of  the  different  kinds  of 
cheese  will  more  appropriately  come  out  in  the  details  of  dairy  management 
in  the  different  localities,  to  which  we  shall  have  occasion  to  refer ; but  they 
all  center  in  the  artificial  development  of  the  cheesy  water  (casein)  of  the 
milk,  whether  the  milk  be  new  or  that  from  which  the  cream  has  been 
taken,  termed  skim  milk. 

It  has  been  stated  that,  if  left  to  itself,  lactic  acid,  into  which  the  sugar  of 
milk  is  changed,  soon  begins  to  form,  in  circumstances  of  air  and  tempera- 
ture favorable  to  its  development.  If  to  this  mixture  heat  is  applied,  so  as 
to  contract  the  caseous  matter,  we  should  have  genuine  curd,  fit  for  the  man- 
ufacture of  cheese ; but  the  cheese  would  be  unpalatable,  brittle,  and  hard, 
and  the  proces«  too  slow  for  the  purposes  of  commerce.  Hence  some  sub 


DAIRY  MANAGEMENT. 


5 1 


stance  is  required  to  facilitate  the  change.  Lactic  acid,  natural  or  artificially 
added,  will  combine  with  the  soda,  which  holds  the  casein  in  solution,  and 
form  lactate  of  soda.  Here  the  acid  will,  with  the  addition  of  a little  heat, 
be  developed.  For  this  purpose  various  means  may  be  adopted.  The  most 
common  is  the  addition,  in  some  form  or  other,  of  the  very  substance  nature 
has  herself  provided,  for  the  abstraction  of  the  casein,  i.e.  the  stomach  of  the 
calf,  or  some  mammalian,  generally  a ruminating  animal.  The  stomach  of 
the  calf  curdles  the  milk  in  its  natural  state ; and  often  this  curdled  milk,  the 
contents  of  the  calf’s  stomach — the  animal  having  had  first  a full  meal  of 
milk  given  to  it — is  withdrawn  and  used  to  produce  the  change  in  the  milk 
intended  for  cheese.  The  idea  seems  neither  pleasant  nor  cleanly,  nor  is  it 
necessary.  The  stomach  itself,  if  well  washed,  chopped  to  pieces,  and 
steeped  in  water  for  several  months, — as  many  as  twelve  being  in  many 
cases  advised — and  reduced  either  to  a liquid,  or  powder,  or  even  the  skin 
itself,  is  equally  potent  in  effecting  the  coagulation  of  the  milk.  The  notion 
that  it  is  the  gastric  juice  of  the  stomach  which  curdles  the  milk,  though  it 
will  doubtless  have  that  effect,  is  exploded  by  Professor  Johnston,  who  satis- 
factorily shows  that  the  change  must  result  from  some  acid  in  the  structure 
of  the  rennet  itself,  and  not  merely  from  the  gastric  juice,  especially  in  the 
cases  where  it  is  considered  necessary  that  it  should  remain  for  twelve 
months  steeped  in  water  before  being  fit  for  use.  The  rennet,  however,  is  not 
the  only  material  used  for  striking  the  curd,  or  hastening  the  coagulation  of  the 
casein.  In  some  cases  muriatic  acid  is  used.  This  acid  transfers  the  alkali 
of  the  milk  into  common  salt  (muriate  of  soda) ; being  diluted  with  -water, 
it  has  the  same  effect  as  the  rennet.  Vinegar,  tartaric  acid,  alum,  and  even 
occasionally  milk,  are  all  used  with  success ; each  having  in  it  acid  enough 
to  effect  the  purpose,  under  favorable  circumstances.  A considerable  part 
of  the  fatty  matter  of  the  milk  will,  of  course,  unite  w’ith  the  curd ; but 
some  will  remain  with  the  liquid,  or  whey,  as  it  must  now  be  called.  In 
the  case  of  whole  or  new  milk  cheese,  the  whole  of  the  milk  immediately 
it  is  taken  from  the  cow  and  passed  through  a fine  sieve,  is  subjected  to  the 
action  cf  the  rennet.  In  cases  when  a full  meal  of  milk  will  not  produce  a 
cheese,  the  milk  of  the  evening  is  reserved  till  the  morning,  both  added  to- 
gether, and  the  rennet  poured  upon  the  mass.  As  something  like  95°  is  the 
heat  at  which  coagulation,  and  contraction  of  the  curd,  is  performed  with  the 
greatest  rapidity,  the  milk  should  be  raised  to  about  that  degree.  If  more 
heat  than  this  is  given,  the  cheese  will  be  tough  and  waxy  ; if  less,  there 
is  some  difficulty,  owing  to  its  softness,  in  separating  the  cheesy  from  the 
watery  matter.  In  cold  w'eather  a small  quantity  of  hot  water  has  to  be 
added  to  the  newr  milk  wTith  the  rennet ; but  if  much  water  is  added,  or  the 
temperature  interfered  with  more  than  is  necessary,  it  injures  the  qvtility  of 
the  cheese. 

Th  e next  process  is  the  cutting  of  this  curd,  to  separate  it  from  the  whey, 
3* 


58 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


and  this  is  a manipulation  which  requires  care  on  the  part  of  the  operator. 
If  done  rudely  or  rapidly,  it  will  burst  the  mass  and  press  out  the  buty- 
raceous  particles;  but  it  must  not  be  delayed  after  the  curd  is  formed,  or  the 
whey  will  obtain  more  than  its  legitimate  share  of  the  butter.  The  process 
of  draining  away  the  whey  held  in  loose  attraction  by  the  curd,  is  to  cut  it 
m pieces  and  lay  it  on  a strainer ; then  by  the  application  of  slight  and 
equable  pressure  to  take  away  the  remaining  whey.  As  little  force  shoukl 
be  used  as  possible  at  first ; but  as  the  first  portion  of  whey  has  drained  off 
the  curd  will  acquire  more  power  to  retain  the  fatty  matter.  Forty  or  fifty 
pounds  weight  will  be  as  much  as  it  can  bear  at  the  commencement  of  the 
process. 

Nearly  the  whole  secret  of  cheese-making  depends  upon  thoroughly  drain- 
ing off  the  whey.  This  carries  off  the  sugary  matter  of  the  milk,  the  lactic 
acid,  and  perhaps  the  rennet  as  well ; and  these  substances  are  so  liable  to 
undergo  changes,  that  cheese-making  altogether  depends  upon  this  process 
being  properly  attended  to.  In  some  places  even  the  curd  is  washed ; for, 
beyond  the  danger  of  washing  out  a little  butyraceous  matter,  little  injury 
would  be  sustained  compared  to  the  loss  incurred,  if  the  cheese  were  suffered 
to  retain  any  considerable  portion  of  the  whey  besides ; as  butter  is  some- 
times churned  from  this  whey,  the  loss  is  made  up  to  the  dairy-man,  if  not 
to  the  consumer,  in  another  way. 

So  powerful  is  the  tendency  of  the  albuminous  matter  of  the  casein,  to 
putrefy,  that  even  cheese  itself  will  not  keep  unless  the  salting  process  in  one 
shape  or  another  is  adopted.  This  is  performed  in  the  manner  most  favor- 
able to  the  production  of  the  peculiar  kind  of  cheese  for  which  a district  may 
be  famous,  and  is  either  added  to  the  curd,  or  rubbed  in  after  the  cheese  is 
made  and  strained  ; for  such  is  the  affinity  of  salt  for  moisture,  that  it  will 
soon  permeate  the  wrhole  mass  of  the  cheese,  and  preserve  the  casein  from 
putrefaction  by  its  peculiar  antiseptic  qualities.  The  next  process  is  that  of 
drying  or  turning ; but  as  these  are  matters  of  detail  which  will  come  under 
view  shortly,  they  need  not  be  described  here.  The  only  remaining  sub- 
jects requiring  notice,  are  the  general  care  and  attention  necessary  to  be  ex- 
ercised in  order  to  keep  up  the  character  of  the  cheeses  of  a district,  what- 
ever the  peculiarities  of  manufacture  may  be. 

If  scrupulous,  nay  fastidious  cleanliness,  be  necessary  in  the  process  of 
butter-making,  it  is  equally  necessary  for  the  making  of  cheese.  The  flavor 
of  a cheese  may  be  much  more  easily  destroyed  even  than  that  of  butter. 
Decaying  matter  in  the  dairy  will  send  out  its  sporules,  undefinable  even  by 
the  microscope,  and  infect  the  whole  place  with  its  miasmatic  influence.  And 
bo  long  as  the  dairy  is  not  a separate  room  in  the  house,  kept  aloof  from  the 
food  of  the  family,  from  the  decay  and  putrefaction  of  animal  and  vegetable 
matter,  kept  apart  from  the  performance  of  household  work,  and  in  the  most 
absolute  state  of  cleanliness,  there  will  be  injury  and  loss  to  the  dairyman. 


LONDON  DAIRY  SYSTEM. 


09 


/f  the  bowls,  and  dishes,  and  pails,  and  coolers,  are  not  assiduously  cleaned 
ind  scalded,  so  as  to  destroy  all  remains  of  fermentation  and  putrefaction,  the 
vhole  dairy  operations  of  the  year,  at  least  such  part  of  the  year  as  succeeds 
hese  violations,  may  be  rendered  unprofitable. 


Allusion  has  been  made  to  the  taste  of  turnips  inseparable  from  the  milk 
and  butter  of  cows  fed  on  that  root.  As  the  bulk  of  the  cheese  is  made  in 
summer,  the  remark  does  not  so  far  apply  to  cheese ; but  it  is  not  unapt  to 
obtain  a flavor  from  any  herbs  upon  which  the  cow  may  have  especially  fed- 
This  aroma  of  the  milk  may  be  often  removed  by  the  addition  of  a little 
saltpetre ; and  a few  drops  of  chloride  of  lime  are  recommended  to  remove 
entirely  the  taste  of  turnips.  A little  prudence,  however,  will  generally  ob- 
viate the  injury  arising  from  any  special  kind  of  food,  with  which  the  cows 
may  at  any  time  be  fed. 

The  inoculation  of  cheese  is  one  of  the  refinements  of  modern  taste  and 
luxury.  A blue  mould  is  by  some  considered  the  sine  qua  non  of  a tasty 
cheese  ; while  others  prefer  the  decay  to  be  gray,  and  the  cheese  to  be  in  a 
state  of  putrefaction  so  absolute  as  to  be  soft  and  wet, — a nest  for  mites  and 
jumpers  or  skippers. 

If  it  De  desired  to  give  to  a cheese,  the  flavor  peculiar  to  one  of  its  kind,  it 


00 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


may  easily  be  accomplished.  A dozen  holes  may  be  made  in  the  specimen 
to  be  operated  upon,  with  the  common  cheese  trier,  and  the  pieces  taken 
away.  The  same  trier  may  cut  as  many  pieces  out  of  the  favorite  cheese, 
and  insert  them  in  the  places  from  which  the  others  were  removed.  This, 
covers  1 up  in  a close  place  for  a month  will,  if  free  from  mould  before,  turn 
out  absolutely  ripe,  and  of  the  same  flavor  as  the  cheese  from  which  it  was 
inoculated  ; always  premising  that  the  mouldering  process  had  not  first  set 
in  in  the  inoculated  subject. 

The  cheese  press,  of  which  the  accompanying  is  a cut,  is  called  the  self-act- 
ing press.  It  is  so  constructed  that  by  means  of  two  pair  of  double  acting 
levers,  the  cheese  presses  itself  by  its  own  weight,  and  in  a ten  fold  propor- 
tion to  the  weight  of  the  cheese.  Thus,  if  a cheese  weigh  twenty  pounds, 
it  will  exert  a constant  pressure  on  itself  of  two  hundred,  and  whenever  a 
greater  pressure  is  required,  weights  are  added,  and  for  every  pound  added,  a 
pow’er  of  ten  pounds  is  gained. 

THE  LONDON  DAIRY  SYSTEM,  AND  THAT  OF  GREAT  TOWNS. 

The  Dairy  systems  of  this  country  resolve  themselves  into  three : provid- 
ing supplies  of  milk  for  the  population  of  our  large  towns,  which  are  becom- 
ing every  year  more  important  and  extensive ; the  making  of  cheese  to  suit 
the  various  tastes  of  our  population,  who  may  be  said  to  use  it  almost  to  a 
man,  in  a greater  or  less  degree  ; and  the  production  of  butter,  almost  as  ex- 
tensively used  by  the  bulk  of  our  population.  Of  all  the  large  towns  in  the 
kingdom,  the  supply  for  the  population  of  London  is  the  most  important  mat- 
ter : and  so  great  were  the  secrets  of  a London  establishment  deemed,  that 
it  was  the  greatest  difficulty  Mr.  Youatt,  when  writing  his  Treatise  on 
British  Cattle,  could  gain  the  information  he  required ; for  access  to  the 
dairies  in  London  was  absolutely  refused,  though  in  the  country  he  had  but 
to  ask  to  obtain  assistance,  and  even  hospitality.  Those  who  take  a strong 
view  of  the  adulterations  of  milk  will  attribute  this  to  a dread  of  exposure; 
but  it  may  very  readily ‘be  believed  that  the  joint-stock  dairies,  which  at  one 
time  threatened  to  swamp  the  trade  of  the  private  dealers,  might  have  some 
reason  for  a wish  to  keep  their  secrets  to  themselves.  Whatever  may  have 
been  the  cause,  it  must  be  admitted  we  know  hardly  anything  about  the 
London  dairies  but  what  is  furnished  by  Youatt’s  authority — we  mean  that 
of  Mr.  Laycock’s  and  Mr.  Rhodes’s  establishments.  The  number  of  cows 
he  gives  in  1834  at  12,000;  but  although  London  has  increased  since  the 
period  when  Mr.  Youatt  wrote,  at  least  one-fourth,  we  should  be  surprised 
if  the  increase  of  dairy-cows  had  been  very  great — if  they  have  even  in- 
creased at  all ! The  railway  system  has  introduced  a completely  new  mode 
of  supplying  our  large  towns  with  milk.  The  very  notion  of  a milk 
estaUishment  in  a large  town  at  all,  has  in  itself  become  an  anomaly.  To 
carry  large  herds  of  cows  amongst  over-crowded  streets ! To  get  to  them 


LONDON  DAIRY  SYSTEM. 


61 


their  food,  and  to  convey  away  their  manure,  to  obtain  litter,  and  air,  and 
water  was  no  ordinary  difficulty.  But  it  was  a difficulty  short  of  the  trans- 
port of  milk  from  a distance.  The  railway  system  has  brought  fresh  milk 
from  the  country  in  less  time,  and  with  less  injury,  for  a distance  of  twenty 
miles  round  London,  than  used  to  be  incurred  in  conveying  it  from  the  milk- 
man to  the  consumer.  But  the  railways  have  also  cheapened  the  food.  The 
environs  of  great  towns  have  not  now  the  monopoly  of  the  sale.  Clover 
and  turnips  are  brought  thirty  and  even  forty  miles,  with  much  more  ra- 
pidity, and  are  much  fresher,  than  formerly  when  the  distance  was  only 
seven  ; and,  though  they  are  sold  by  the  pound,  they  are  much  cheapened 
compared  with  what  they  were,  even  ten  years  ago.  The  monopoly  has 
been  spread  over  a much  greater  surface.  The  somewhat  large  sum  of  £82 
per  cow  was  given  as  an  estimate  of  her  produce  per  annum,  as  obtained  by 
the  retail  dealer ; and  the  gross  sum  expended  in  milk  and  cream  in  London, 
at  nearly  one  million  sterling.  Not  a large  sum  per  head  for  the  population, 
nor  a large  sura  for  the  wholesale  dealers  and  retailers,  when  the  art,  the 
labor,  the  time,  and,  above  all,  the  expenses  of  food  and  rent,  are  taken  into 
consideration. 

The  milk  is  sold  by  the  dairymen  to  the  middlemen  retailers.  These  take 
off  the  cream,  and  mix  it  with  water  for  sale,  boil  the  skim-milk,  and  sell 
it  warm  from  the  fire.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  new  milk  in  London ; it 
is  all  boiled  skim-milk.  Mr.  Rhodes’s  establishment,  one  of  the  largest  in 
London,  stands  on  an  area  of  some  two  and  a half  acres  of  ground,  which 
has  a gentle  slope  towards  the  east.  The  cow-houses  are  in  a line  with  this 
slope,  and  are  furnished  with  drains  behind,  and  a long  trough  before  ; in  the 
one  their  food  and  water  are  allowed  to  run,  and  down  the  other  their  drop- 
pings and  drainings  discharge  themselves.  The  stalls  are  arranged  on  each 
side  of  the  gutter.  These  stalls  are  double  ; two  cows  being  placed  in  each, 
and  having  each  cow  a manger  and  a covered  water-trough  let  into  the  wall. 
The  cow-houses  are  twenty-four  feet  wide  and  eight  feet  high,  lighted  with 
glass,  and  well  ventilated.  Of  these  cow-houses  there  are  four  long  rows, 
and  at  the  bottom  is  a quadrangular  yard,  surrounded  by  somewhat  similar 
sheds,  partly  used  for  feeding  the  dry  cows  and  partly  for  keeping  pigs, 
which  feed  on  the  refuse  food  of  the  animals.  Four  or  five  hundred  cows, 
which  are  usually  kept  in  the  establishment,  supply  milk,  varying  with  cir- 
cumstances, and  sometimes,  of  course,  beyond  the  demand ; where  this  is  the 
case  the  milk  is  skimmed,  and  given  to  the  pigs — being  placed  in  a large 
souring  cistern  ; and  this,  as  well  as  the  grains  which  may  be  left  after  the 
cows  have  been  fed,  are  almost  their  exclusive  sustenance.  Near  this 
quadrangle  is  the  dunghill,  after  the  American  fashion ; a plan  of  all  others 
the  most  desirable  in  a large  towi.,  being  so  much  excluded  from  the  air,  and 
affording  the  best  opportunities  for  its  innocuous  removal.  The  cows  are 
never  loosed,  so  long  as  they  are  milkers.  They  usually  come  in  from  York- 


62 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


shire  or  Durham,  and  are  all  newly  calved.  They  are  fed  mostly  on  grains 
and  hay.  Sometimes,  as  we  said  before,  clover  and  grass,  tares  and  mangel 
are  brought  from  a distance ; but  the  system  of  feeding  on  fermented  and 
preserved  brewer’s  grains,  is  more  or  less  general,  because  they  are  known 
to  have  the  most  wonderful  effect  *n  promoting  the  secretion  of  milk. 
Those  of  the  ale  brewers  are  preferre  to  the  porter  brewers,  and  they  are 
preserved  in  a pit  sunk  in  the  establishment,  lined  with  brick  and  cement, 
trodden  down  and  kept  air-tight.  An  incipient  vinous  fermentation  takes 
place,  which  runs  into  acetous,  and  the  whole  mass  is  soured,  the  same  as 
the  milk  was  for  the  pigs,  but  with  this  difference,  that  in  the  one  case  the 
air  is  freely  admitted,  but  in  the  latter  case  it  is  carefully  excluded.  Here 
keeping  is  said  to  improve  the  grains  ; and  months,  and  even  years,  are  per- 
mitted to  elapse  before  they  are  consumed.  Of  these  the  cows  get  about  a 
bushel  per  day.  Hay  in  winter,  and  tares  and  cut-grass  in  summer,  ekt 
out  their  soured  grains,  with  a daily  allowance  of  salt,  keeping  them  in  high 
condition  ; and  they  will  give,  on  an  average,  nine  quarts  of  milk  per  day-, 
if  they  do  not  give  this  quantity,  or  within  one  quart,  they  are  at  once  con- 
demned. Mangel  wurzel,  turnips  in  small  quantities,  and  even  potatoes,  are 
given  in  winter.  The  change  from  the  open  air  to  the  cow-houses  of  London 
is  very  great.  It  might  be  supposed  that  it  would  have  a ruinous  effect  on 
their  health  and  condition.  But  this  is  not  the  case.  They  are  usually  con- 
fined only  for  eight  or  ten  months;  and  this  is  not  long  enough  to  produce 
much  damage.  The  change  in  their  food,  also,  is  rather  favorable  than 
otherwise  ; and  the  currying  of  the  skins,  which  is  universally  adopted,  has 
a very  beneficial  tendency  in  overcoming  the  want  of  exercise.  The  cows, 
when  they  cease  to  be  milkers,  are  generally  sold  to  the  distillers,  though 
some  dairymen  keep  and  breed  from  the  best  specimens.  The  general  sys- 
tem, however,  is  to  sell  them  off ; and  for  this  reason  the  Yorkshire  cow  is 
so  generally  the  favorite  in  the  London  dairies,  because  she  is  of  more  value 
for  fattening  than  almost  any  other,  and  gives  a larger  proportion  of  milk, 
although  it  be  of  a less  nourishing  and  poorer  quality. 

In  the  establishment  to  which  we  have  alluded,  cr.d  at  the  end  opposite 
to  the  pig-houses,  is  the  suite  of  rooms  used  for  the  Here  are  three 

rooms — a measuring  room,  where  the  milk  is  measured  to  the  retailers,  an 
inner  or  scalding  room,  where  the  vessels  are  kept  and  washed,  and  which 
is  furnished  with  a boiler  and  tables,  and  the  iiner  room,  or  dairy,  for  the 
unsold  milk.  The  retailers  usually  milk  the  cows  themselves,  at  four 
o’clock  in  the  morning,  and  three  in  the  afternoon.  They  take  the  produce 
of  one,  two,  three,  or  more  cows,  according  to  the  demands  of  their  custom- 
ers ; but  have  their  supply  either  added  to,  by  the  dairyman,  from  the  pro- 
duce of  other  milch  cows,  or  they  pass  over  the  quantity  they  do  not  require, 
if  they  have  procured  more  milk  than  they  have  demand  for.  The 
dairyman  makes  butter  of  the  surplus  milk;  and  gives  the  skim  milk  either 


LIVERPOOL  DAIRY  SYSTEM. 


63 


to  feeding,  or,  more  generally,  to  breeding  and  store  pigs,  soured  ts  has  Deen 
described. 


THE  LIVERPOOL  DAIRY  SYSTEM 

Is  different  from  that  of  London,  because  it  is  more  connected  with  the 
farming  operations  around  that  town,  and  we  cannot  select  for  remark  any- 
thing so  complete  in  that  neighborhood — if  indeed  anything  in  the  country  is 
half  so  perfect — as  the  system  of  Mr.  Littledale,  of  Lisceard.  His  dairy,  though 
much  smaller  than  the  London  one  we  have  named,  is  carried  on  with  a 
spirit  that  rather  reminds  us  of  Mr.  Harley,  at  Glasgow,  who  remodeled 
the  whole  dairy  system  of  towns,  than  anything  else  with  which  it  can  be 
compared.  Mr.  Littledale’s  farm,  of  350  acres,  is  made  subservient  to  this 
purpose,  and  his  farm  buildings  wTere  specially  erected  for  the  purpose  of 
carrying  out  the  system ; they  cover  about  four  statute  acres.  His  cattle 
occupy  three  cow  houses,  or,  as  he  calls  them  provincially,  w shipons,”  and 
are  arranged  in  parallel  lines,  with  yards  between,  one  holding  sixteen,  an- 
other twenty-eight,  and  another  thirty-two  cows.  From  these,  drains  pro- 
ceed into  liquid  manure  tanks,  and  the  cattle  are  tied  by  the  head,  in  a stall 
after  the  London  fashion.  His  farm  grows  mangel  wurzel,  turnips,  potatoes, 
a*id  green  food  for  his  cows,  and  he  also  feeds  a large  number  of  pigs,  as  an 
auxiliary  to  his  dairy.  The  stalls  in  the  cow-house  are  partitioned  with 
blue  Welsh  flags,  connected  with  iron  rods,  and  each  animal  is  furnished 
with  an  iron  manger. 

A passage  before  the  head  of  each  row  of  cows,  which  is  single  in  each 
cow-house,  enables  the  feeder  to  supply  them  with  their  food  without  dis- 
turbing the  animals ; and  they  are  never  taken  from  their  stalls  either  foi 
food  or  exercise.  The  whole  of  the  cow-houses  are  laid  also  with  Welsh 
tiles,  and  an  open  drain  runs  behind  the  cows,  furnished  with  stench  traps, 
to  convey  the  liquid  to  the  tanks  we  spoke  of,  by  the  covered  drains  from 
the  cow-houses.  There  is  no  provision  for  tbe  conveyance  of  water,  for 
being  fed  so  largely  on  roots,  they  require  but  a small  quantity,  and  what 
they  require  is  carried  in  pails.  In  addition  to  this  green  food,  Mr.  Little- 
dale  uses  a large  quantity  of  grains  from  the  brewery,  and  gives  boiled  lin- 
seed, as  an  auxiliary  to  his  roots  and  green  food.  His  cattle  are  curried  and 
brushed  regularly,  and  as  regularly  fed,  and  though  they  are,  as  we  said, 
never  loosed  from  their  stalls,  they  are  remarkably  sleek  and  healthy,  and 
free  from  many  of  the  epidemics  which  so  commonly  prevail  throughout 
the  dairy  county  in  which  he  lives — the  county  of  Chester.  The  ventila- 
tion is  attended  to  by  means  of  open-paled  weather-boarded  ventilators  at 
the  top  of  the  cow-houses,  by  which  he  is  able  to  regulate  the  temperature. 

The  dairy  is  a very  completely  arranged  building,  the  floor  is  laid  in  ce- 
ment, and  there  are  two  large  sycamore  tables,  one  on  each  side,  and  one  ol 


<54 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


marble  at  the  end,  with  three  large,  but  shallow,  octagon  leaden  milk-bowls 
in  the  center.  The  walls  are  lined  with  glazed  Staffordshire- ware  tiles,  and 
the  roof  has  in  it  a large  ventilator.  The  walls,  which  are  exposed  to  the 
north,  are  built  hollow,  having  a three-inch  aperture,  which  communicates 
with  the  space  between  a double  ceiling,  which  covers  the  building,  and  this 
gives  an  ample  command  of  low  temperature  in  summer, — a higher  one  in 
winter  being  easily  obtained  The  milk,  when  cool,  is  placed  in  glass  milk- 
pans,  and  is  brought  from  the  cow-house  in  sycamore  pails.  The  churn  is 
of  the  old-fashioned  cylindrical  form,  it  is  made  so  as  to  be  worked  by  his 
steam  engine,  and  will  churn  eighty  gallons  of  cream  at  one  charge.  To 
make  this  into  butter,  under  favorable  circumstances,  it  requires  but  some 
eight  or  nine  minutes. 

Though,  as  may  be  supposed,  profit  is  not  the  entire  object  of  the  spirited 
proprietor,  there  is  no  doubt  but  his  proximity  to  Liverpool  renders  his  pro- 
duce both  in  milk  and  butter  worth  a large  sum  ; and  as  he  grows  so  large  a 
quantity  of  green  crops,  and  uses  these  to  produce  the  paying  article — dairv 
produce — he  is  enabled  to  grow  large  quantities  of  corn  as  a consequence. 

Somewhat  similar  to  this  was  Mr.  Harley's  dairy,  near  Glasgow ; he  kept 
260  cows,  closely  tied  by  the  head ; kept  them  Dy  soiling,  and  showed  the 
milkmen  of  Glasgow  that  he  could  obtain  as  much  milk  by  one  acre  soiled, 
to  house-kept  cows,  as  five  would  produce  if  the  cows  were  allowed  tc 
roarn  at  large.  If  we  take  into  account  the  quantity  soiled  with  their  ex- 
crements, and  rendered  unfit  for  food,  the  unequal  manner  in  which  they  eat 
the  pasture,  which  allows  much  to  run  to  straw,  while  some  is  eaten  so 
close  to  the  ground  as  almost  to  injure  the  roots,  the  quantity  trodden  down 
and  destroyed  by  the  cattle  lying  upon  it  during  the  night,  and  contrast  this 
with  the  cleanliness,  the  sweetness,  the  freshness,  of  such  as  have  food 
brought  to  them,  we  need  not  wonder  at  the  statement.  The  preservation 
of  the  whole  of  the  liquid  manure,  enables  a dressing  of  that  fertilizing  ma- 
terial to  be  applied  to  the  grass  after  every  cutting,  so  as  to  make  the  most 
of  the  productiveness  of  the  soil.  A great  quantity  of  this  is  doubtless  saved, 
which  would  otherwise  volatilize  and  evaporate. 

Perhaps  a stronger  contrast  to  the  good  management  of  these  spirited  mei 
cannot  be  offered  than  the  adulteration  of  milk , unhappily  practiced  in  othert 
of  our  large  towns,  and  so  extensively  carried  on,  that  it  is  doubtful  whether 
some  of  our  population  ever  taste  such  an  article  as  the  pure  milk  of  the 
cow.  Allusion  was  made  before  to  the  mixing  with  water  so  generally 
practiced,  and  to  the  partial  or  total  abstraction  of  the  cream  before  the  milk 
is  sold-  to  the  consumers.  This  of  course  makes  it  blue  and  thin  ; and  the 
least  objectionable  and  most  simple  resource  to  disguise  the  fraud,  is  to  boil 
it,  to  thicken  the  consistency,  and  improve  the  flavor.  But  far  more  equiv- 
ocal modes  are  adopted.  Sometimes  sheep’s  and  calves’  brains  are  mixed 


PRESERVATION  OF  MILK. 


65 


with  it,  v/hich  render  it  thick  and  rich  in  appearance,  and  make  an  apparent 
rising  of  cream  to  the  surface  ; nor  is  this  adulteration  easy  of  detection. 

Very  old  adulterants  are  chalk  and  flour,  so  common  a few  years  ago  as  to 
obtain  for  town  milk  the  significant  name  of  “whiting this  mixture  pre- 
served the  milk  sweet  for  a longer  period,  thus  enabling  the  adulterator  to 
take  off  more  of  the  cream.  It  became  thin,  however,  by  standing,  and  de- 
posited a sed'ment,  and  thus  was  liable  to  detection.  An  improvement  in 
this  trick  is  to  adulterate  with  boiled  paste  and  sugar — a permanent  thick- 
ness and  sweetness  is  thus  given,  and  it  is  less  easy  of  detection  than  raw 
flour,  but  is  recognizable  by  the  test  of  iodine.  Starch  has  the  same  effect, 
but  is  liable  to  the  same  process  of  detection  : the  white  of  eggs  is  also  some- 
times made  use  of  to  thicken  the  mass. 

A refinement  on  all  these  modes  is  to  mix  the  milk  with  an  emulsion  of 
almonds,  and  even  of  hemp-seed  ; indeed,  it  is  questionable  if  milk  itself  is 
not  absolutely  manufactured  of  this  and  some  other  ingredients.  Some  fif- 
teen quarts  of  water  may  be  made  to  resemble  milk  for  less  than  a shilling  ; 
and  if  a little  milk  is  added,  the  deception  will  be  complete.  Hemp-seed 
emulsion  has  very  much  the  same  effect,  but  is  more  easily  detected  by  its 
acrid  taste  ; but  this  may  be  removed  by  a sugar,  or  sugar-candy  mixture. 
Raspail  detected  both  these  as  thickening  matter  for  skimmed  milk  in  Paris  ; 
and  the  reseaches  of  Mr.  Berruel  showed  that  the  deceptive  effect,  especially 
of  the  almond  mixture,  was  nearly  complete.  It  would  be  tedious  to  repeat 
all  the  tests  for  these  adulterations ; when  they  are  suspected  it  will  be  far 
the  best  to  carry  them  to  an  experienced  chemist,  and  the  exposure  of  the 
parties  in  a few  instances  in  the  public  prints  would  be  far  more  effectual  in 
arresting  the  villainous  process  than  any  personal  manipulation,  which  could 
not  carry  the  same  weight  with  the  public.  As  a public  duty  this  ought  to 
be  done,  as  the  mischief  as  well  as  the  disgusting  nature  of  the  practice 
should  at  once  be  arrested. 

PRESERVATION  OF  MILK 

This  is  by  no  means  an  easy  measure.  It  is  of  materials  so  protean  in 
their  character,  that  to  attempt  to  preserve,  must  so  discompose  or  transmute 
their  qualities,  that  the  mixture  ceases  to  be  milk.  There  are,  however, 
many  inducements  to  preserve  this  invaluable  luxury,  if  it  be  possible,  even 
for  the  purpose  of  transmission  from  the  interior  of  the  country  to  the  large 
towns ; but  this  can  only  be  effected  by  preventing  the  formation  of  the  lac- 
tic acid,  or  the  vinous  fermentation  of  the  mass ; and  by  preventing  the  de- 
composition of  the  sensitive  casein.  We  must  therefore  either  lock  up  both 
these  principle® — the  saccharine  and  caseous  materials — by  some  strong  al- 
finity,  or  we  must  exclude  air  and  warmth,  to  effect  our  purpose.  In  Hol- 
land the  milk  is  mixed  with  carbonate  of  magnesia,  which  thickens  it,  and 


CO 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


prevents  it  rom  souring;  this, or  some  other  alkaline  mixture,  will  d<  ibt- 
less  preserve  it  for  a short  period,  especially  in  winter,  by  forming  a salt 
with  the  lactic  acid,  as  it  is  developed,  and  by  keeping  the  casein  in  a state 
of  solution.  Fifteen  grains  of  the  carbonate  in  a quart  of  milk  will  not  give 
it  any  very  unpleasant  taste,  and  will  certainly  prevent  its  acidulation  and 
curdling.  Carbonate  of  soda  will  have  a similar  effect,  and  it  is  thought  by 
some  to  improve  the  tendency  of  the  cream  to  separate  from  the  miik. 
Possibly  the  reason  is,  that  with  the  soda  it  can  be  kept  so  much  longer,  and 
thus  give  it  a better  chance  of  rising. 

Another  plan  is  to  place  the  new  milk  in  bottles,  and  insert  them  in  a pan 
on  the  fire,  immersed  in  cold  water,  until  the  water  boils.  The  air  in  the 
bottles  thus  becomes  rarefied,  and,  if  corked  up  hot,  will  be  kept  for  a con- 
siderable time  in  a state  of  comparative  freshness,  to  be  used  immediately 
the  bottles  are  opened.  The  addition  of  a few  grains  of  carbonate  of  soda, 
will  of  course  much  improve  its  keeping  qualities.  It  should  also  after  this 
be  kept  as  cool  as  possible. 

M.  Adepert’s  method  is  a step  beyond  this.  He  recommends  the  milk  to 
be  subjected  to  a heat  so  gentle  that  the  great  bulk  of  the  purely  watery 
parts  are  evaporated  ; then  to  be  closely  corked  up.  This,  of  course,  has  a 
much  stronger  tendency  to  resist  decomposition  than  if  the  whole  of  the 
watery  particles  remained,  and  if  it  were  boiled  in  the  bottles  in  which  it 
was  to  be  finally  corked  up,  and  this  done  during  the  hot  state,  as  in  the  in- 
stance above,  and  a small  addition  of  soda  made,  it  might  keep  in  a palatable 
state  for  a considerable  period, — not  indeed  to  compete  with  newly-produced 
milk,  but  to  be  a luxury  on  board  a ship  far  out  at  sea,  without  any  fresh 
supply  of  that  nutritious  article.  DuchofF,  a Russian  chemist,  went  ever, 
beyond  Adepert,  and  his  scheme  professes  to  be  perfect,  furnishing  a supply 
of  milk  for  any  length  of  time,  and  to  use  at  pleasure.  It  is  by  forming  es- 
sentially a milk  powder.  He  proposes  to  evaporate  by  a slow  fire  the 
whole  of  the  watery  matter  from  the  milk,  and  thus  have  a solid  and  pul- 
verulent mass,  which  may  be  kept  in  a small  compass  in  a bottle,  and  when 
required  be  dissolved  in  a proper  quantity  of  water.  Now,  as  milk  contains 
water  in  the  ratio  of  nearly  nine-tenths  of  its  substance,  it  may,  doubtless, 
be  much  reduced  in  compass,  and  made  capable  of  being  produced  extempo- 
raneously at  pleasure ; this  would  supply  a great  desideratum.  It  is  ex- 
tremely doubtful,  however,  if  it  would  retain  much  of  the  taste  of  milk 
how  much  soever  it  might  retain  its  nourishing  qualities. 

THE  OPERATION  OF  MILKING 

Is  one  which  has  more  to  do  with  the  success  of  dairy  management  than 
is  generally  supposed.  It  must  be  performed  carefully,  thoroughly,  and 
kindly.  The  cow  must  be  educated  to  give  her  milk  freely,  and  this  can 
only  be  accomplished  by  a system  of  kind  treatment  when  she  is  a heifer, 


OPERATION  OF  MILKING. 


67 


and  has  produced  her  first  calf.  Many  a cow  physiologically  capable  of  being 
a good  milker,  is  spoiled  at  the  very  outset  by  unskillful  treatment.  The 
new  sympathies  and  sensations  of  the  mother  are  very  decided  and  very 
painful.  The  vessels  of  the  udder  are  strained  and  sore,  and  a rough  and 
brutal  treatment  of  her  at  this  time,  will  stamp  her  as  a vicious  cow  for  ever. 
She  will  hold  back  her  milk,  become  a hard  milker,  and  will  thus,  by  keep- 
ing the  contents  in  her  udder,  meal  after  meal,  soon  run  off  her  milk,  and 
become  prematurely  dry.  Nothing  can  be  more  utterly  injudicious  than  the 
mode  adopted  by  too  many  dairymen,  of  taking  away  the  calf  the  moment 
it  is  dropped,  to  prevent  the  mother  from  seeing  it  till  she  cannot  distinguish 
it  as  her  own.  A greater  violence  done  to  common  sense  cannot  be  im- 
agined. The  udder  is  distended  and  painful;  and  nothing  is  so  calculated  to 
soothe  and  relieve  it,  as  the  mucous  covering  of  the  mouth  of  the  offspring; 
nor  will  anything  be  so  grateful  to  the  mother,  or  cause  her  so  readily  to 
give  up  her  milk  with  ease  and  facility  in  milking.  At  first  the  teats  are 
gummed  up  by  a glutinous  sort  of  cork;  this  should  be  removed  with  the 
hand  carefully,  or  by  the  application  of  warm  water.  A little  of  the  beest- 
ings should  be  milked  into  the  hand  and  rubbed  on  the  teats  and  udder ; and 
then  the  calf  should  be  assisted  to  milk.  If  the  udder  be  very  full  and  distend- 
ed, a little  milk  may  be  carefully  extracted  by  an  experienced  milker.  If  the 
calf  be  feeble  it  may  have  a few  spoonsful  given  by  the  spoon  ; only,  how  • 
ever,  that  it  may  more  vigorously  attack  its  mother.  When  the  calf  is  sat- 
isfied, the  udder  should  be  stripped  clean.  On  the  second  day  it  should  be 
placed  in  a stall  near  the  cow,  to  attract  her  attention,  and  be  let  out  only 
just  before  milking  hours,  which,  in  newly  calved  cows,  should  always  re- 
cur three  limes  a-day  at  least.  This  should  be  practiced  for  a fortnight,  as 
all  calves  should  have  new  milk  for  at  least  that  period,  and  then  the  hand 
milking  may  be  altogether  substituted.  She  has  got  a habit  of  docility  from 
instinct,  and  gives  her  milk  with  cheerfulness  and  pleasure  ; but,  if  with  a 
sore  udder,  without  her  calf,  and  its  mental  influence  as  well  as  its  physi- 
cal, upon  her,  she  is  left  to  brood  on  her  unsatisfied  instincts,  she  gets  peevish 
and  sulky.  The  period  of  milking,  which  ought  to  be  one  of  relief,  becomes 
one  of  pain  and  annoyance,  and  often  cruelty ; she  becomes  a confirmed 
vicious  cow,  and  therefore  a hard  milker ! Young  heifers  should  never  be 
tied  at  first.  So  long  as  the  calf  suckles  she  will  not  require  it,  but  when 
tied  by  the  feet  she  should  also  have  a noose  passed  over  her  hams,  to  pre- 
vent her  kicking.  Three  persons  should  always  be  sent  to  milk  a young 
cow,  one  to  her  head,  one  to  her  hams,  and  one  to  milk.  If  she  shows  vice, 
or  wildness,  or  kicks  at  first,  the  noose  over  her  hams  will  be  a very  efficient 
remedy.  Milking  should  always  be  performed  the  very  first  thing  in  the 
morning ; five  in  summer,  and  six  in  winter,  are  the  latest  periods  it  should 
ever  be  performed.  In  the  evening  it  may  be  done  at  five,  and  regularity 
here  has  more  to  do  with  success  than  is  generally  imagined.  The  cows 


08 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


■hould  not  be  driven  home,  but  the  milk  should  be  carried  from  the  field,  if 
distant;  for  a great  waste  of  milk  will  take  place  if  they  are  driven  about. 
If  under  cover,  it  is  by  no  means  a bad  plan  to  give  them  their  feed  at  the 
time  they  are  milked.  It  adds  to  their  quietness,  and  makes  them  part  with 
their  milk  more  freely;  and  as  most  milk  cows,  in  winter  and  spring  at 
least,  have  mash,  it  is  desirable  to  give  them  this  during  the  milking  the 
first  thing  in  the  morning. 

The  most  important  part  of  the  operation  of  milking  is  perhaps  to  milk 
clean. — to  take  out  the  whole  of  the  milk  from  the  udder.  Not  only  is  the 
last  portion  the  richest  in  cream  and  in  butter,  but  there  is  not  a more  cer- 
tain way  of  drying  a cow  than  allowing  a part  of  her  meal  to  remain  in  the 
udder.  It  is  a good,  but  too  generally  neglected  plan,  to  wash  the  udder 
with  warm  water  before  milking.  Nor  is  it  of  less  consequence  to  have  a 
good  tempered  and  expert  milker ; a savage  ill-tempered  milker  will  often 
spoil  a cow,  and,  if  she  once  holds  up  her  milk,  it  is  a proof  that  the  milker 
is  defective  or  disagreeable  to  the  animal,  either  from  her  disposition  and 
temper,  or  in  the  manipulation  of  the  udder.  Pleasant  milking  is  that 
which  sensibly  relieves  the  cow’s  udder.  A free,  decided,  but  gentle  grasp 
of  the  teats,  and  a full  and  vigorous  stream  of  milk,  are  the  marks  of  a suc- 
cessful milker.  It  is  desirable  to  rub  and  stroke  the  udder  when  the  stream 
ceases,  to  encourage  the  delivery  of  the  slightest  remains ; nor  is  it  a bad 
plan  for  the  milker,  or  in  large  dairies,  for  the  foreman,  or  even  master,  to 
take  a small  measure  and  follow  the  milker  to  “ strip  ” all  the  cows.  There 
are  some  masters  who  make  a point  of  always  attending  to  this  at  milking, 
and  they  thus  see  the  character  and  capabilities  of  the  milker ; women  are 
by  far  the  most  capable  of  milking,  their  hands  are  more  gentle  and  deli- 
cate, and  the  cows  seem  generally  to  prefer  them. 

There  have  been  several  attempts  to  accomplish  the  milking  with  other 
than  hand  manipulation.  Some  syphons  were  invented,  which  were  alleged 
to  have  the  peculiarity  of  clearing  out  the  udder  without  the  use  of  the  hand. 
But  this  has  not  been  found  so  successful  as  to  obtain  any  wide-spread  use ; 
nor  indeed  to  be  much  known,  even  amongst  experienced  agriculturists.  It 
is  obvious  that  there  are  only  two  modes  of  overcoming  the  tension  of  the 
udder,  likely  to  effect  the  purpose.  The  one  is  compression,  the  other  is 
suction.  The  syphon  went  on  the  erroneous  principle  of  distending  '.he 
mouth  of  the  inner  duct  of  the  milk  in  the  teats.  This  is  a disagreeable  pro- 
cess, and  would  subject  the  cow  to  a flaccid  state  of  teat,  likely  to  induce  her 
to  commit  the  fault  of  milking  herself.  An  American  plan  recently  men- 
tioned in  this  country  as  practiced  in  the  United  States,  is  much  more  feasi- 
ble. It  proceeds  on  the  two  principles  wre  have  named,  and  consists  of  four 
India  rubber  bags,  which  are  drawn  over  the  teats,  and  set  'so  as  to  be  air 
tight.  At  the  lower  end  of  these,  metallic  tubes,  with  taps,  are  inserted : 
when  the  adjustment  is  perfect  the  taps  are  turned,  and  the  whole  of  the 


THE  DAIRY  HOUSE. 


69 


milk  in  the  udtler  is  said  to  be  thoroughly  exhausted,  and  in  half  the  time 
required  for  hand-milking.  It  is  said  that  a man  can  milk  ten  cows  tho- 
roughly in  fifteen  minutes.  It  requires,  perhaps,  more  experience  than  has 
yet  been  obtained  before  it  could  be  recommended,  but  the  idea  is  novel  and 
not  altogether  void  of  feasibility. 

THE  DAIRY  HOUSE 

Is,  perhaps,  of  all  other  appliances,  the  one  on  which  success  most 
depends.  It  should  be  apart  from  all  household  operations,  from  open 
grates,  and  from  dung-heaps,  and  should  have  as  much  as  possible  the  means 
of  an  equable  temperature.  As,  however,  it  is  much  easier  to  keep  a cold 
building  warm,  than  to  cool  a hot  one,  it  is  desirable  that  it  should  be  as 


C Milk  room.  H Tables  round. 

D Table.  I Pump. 

E Verandah.  J Boilers  for  scalding. 

much  as  possible  shielded  from  the  sun’s  rays.  It  should  have  its  side  to 
the  north,  its  end  to  the  east,  and  should,  if  possible,  be  let  into  the  earth  a 
few  feet,  but  not  so  deep  as  to  interfere  with  the  drainage.  If  covered  by  a 
large  tree  it  would  be  all  the  better.  Around  it  should  be  either  a hollow 
wall,  or  peat  earth  should  be  walled  round  its  exterior ; or,  as  another  alter- 
native, and  possibly  the  best  but  most  expensive,  it  should  be  surrounded  by 
a verandah.  It  should  also  have  a double  roof,  and  abundant  top  and  side 


10 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


ventilation, — either  of  which  should  admit  of  being  closed.  It  is  necessary 
to  have  in  it  a pump,  the  floor  sloping,  and  on  the  highest  part  a perforated 
pipe  should  be  connected  with  the  pump,  to  allow’  of  the  cleansing  of  the 
floor  with  cold  spring  water  when  necessary.  The  bowds  should  either  be 
earthen  ware  or  glass  dishes,  placed  upon  wooden  tables — fir,  maple,  or  syca- 
more are  the  best, — or  leaden  bowls  may  be  used,  placed  on  frames,  and 
surrounding  the  dairy.  Stones  are  the  best  for  the  floors,  and  a lining  for 
the  walls  of  white  pottery  is  not  only  elegant  but  useful ; a pipe  connected 
with  the  boiler  attached  to  the  kitchen  fire  is  a great  advantage,  writh  a stop- 
cock, so  as  to  regulate  the  heat  of  the  room  in  winter.  The  scalding 
and  churning  rooms  should  be  distinct  from  the  milkhouse,  and  the  latter 
should  be  kept  as  free  as  possible  from  all  kinds  of  foreign  matter.  An 
outer  verandah  is  useful  for  drying  the  dishes  and  pails,  and  therefore  desir- 
able, when  the  dairy  is  sufficiently  extensive  to  render  the  expense  of  its 
erection  judicious.  We  give  in  the  sketch  on  the  preceding  page  the  plan  of 
a dairy  which  combines  the  whole  of  these  advantages. 

THE  AYRSHIRE  DAIRY  SYSTEM. 

A district  celebrated  in  Scotland,  and  in  the  north — and  justly  so, — for  the 
manufacture  of  Dunlop  Cheese.  These  cheeses  are  from  twenty-eight  to 
fifty-six  pounds  in  weight,  and  hence,  to  make  one  large  cheese  at  a meal 
requires  a dairy  of  at  least  fourteen  cows.  In  this  case  a cheese  is  made 
night  and  morning,  but,  if  a smaller  dairy  is  kept,  the  night’s  milk  is  reserved 
till  morning,  the  cream  skimmed  off,  and  both  are  warmed,  so  as  to  make 
the  whole  mass  90°  to  95°.  Following  the  course  of  the  large  dairies,  how- 
ever,— those  where  the  cheese  is  made  in  the  greatest  perfection,  namely, 
from  new  milk  as  it  comes  from  the  cow, — a large  cheese-tub  is  placed  in 
the  dairy,  and  upon  this  is  placed  a framework  of  wood,  denominated  a lad- 
der. Over  the  whole  is  placed  a thin  linen  strainer,  and  the  milk,  if  suffi- 
ciently warm,  viz.,  at  least  85°,  is  strained  through  this  cloth  into  the  tub. 
If,  however,  it  should  not  be  of  that  heat,  it  is  placed  in  a deep  tin  or  copper 
vessel,  and  inserted  in  a furnace  of  hot  water,  until  it  attains  the  requisite 
degree  of  heat, — for  all  the  success  of  the  cheese-making  from  the  rich  milk 
of  the  Ayrshire  cows  depends  upon  this  precaution.  If  the  cheese  is  made 
from  milk  of  a less  heat  than  this,  the  curd  does  not  contract  properly,  and 
some  is  wasted  in  the  whey — nor  is  the  cheese  so  compact ; whereas  if  it  -is 
much  hotter  than  90°,  except  in  winter,  when  it  cools  down  considerably  in 
the  very  operation  of  making,  the  cheese  will  ferment  and  the  casein- run 
through  its  various  stages  of  decay. 

The  next  process  is  that  of  adding  the  rennet.  This  consists  of  the 
stomach  of  calves,  kept  until  at  least  one  year  old,  when  they  are  steeped  in 
salt  and  water,  in  the  ratio  of  three  to  the  gallon,  and,  in  the  best-managed 


THE  AYRSHIRE  DAIRY  SYSTEM. 


n 


dairies  at  least,  a lemon  is  added  to  take  off  the  bad  flavor.  T:.is  stands  for 
some  two  months,  before  being  used.  A tablespoonful  of  this  solution  is 
added  to  each  hundred  quarts  of  milk,  and  the  whole  is  covered  by  a woolen 
cloth  to  prevent  the  escape  of  the  heat. 

When  the  curd  is  sufficiently  firm  for  breaking,  usually  about  a quarter  of 
an  hour  after  the  rennet  has  been  added,  it  is  cut  in  all  directions — a knife 
with  three  blades  being  preferred,  as  expediting  the  process — so  as  to  have 
the  curd  in  cubic  pieces.  It  then  begins  to  sink,  and  as  much  of  the  liquor 
(whey)  is  taken  out  as  can  conveniently  be  removed  in  a wooden  dish.  The 
cutting  of  these  cubical  pieces  again  commences,  slowly  and  cautiously  at 
first  to  break  the  curd  as  little  as  possible,  but  more  rapidly  afterwards,  until 
the  whole  of  the  pieces  are  thoroughly  divided,  and  made  quite  fine.  It  is 
then  allowed  to  settle  for  some  fifteen  minutes,  and  the  whey  again  taken 
from  it  with  the  dish,  and  strained  through  a fine  hair-sieve,  to  arrest  any  of 
the  small  particles  of  curd  which  may  be  taken  up  with  the  whey.  The 
curd  is  then  cut  out,  and  laid  in  a heap  in  the  tub,  to  allow  the  whey  still  to 
drain  away,  but  only  by  the  pressure  of  its  own  weight ; and  when  all  the 
whey  that  will  leave  it  has  been  so  expressed,  it  is  placed  in  the  cheese- 
vats,  which  were  before  covered  with  a cloth,  remaining  there  for  half  an 
hour,  under  a pressure  of  about  fourteen  pounds,  to  press  out  the  remaining 
whey,  but  leave  the  fatty  or  butyraceous  particles  in  the  curd.  It  is  then 
taken  out  and  cut  into  slices,  and  again  subjected  to  a greater  pressure,  and 
either  broken  fine  by  the  hand  or  torn  in  pieces  by  a curd-mill,  until  it  be- 
comes almost  reduced  to  crumbs.  It  then  undergoes  the  salting  piocess, 
which  generally  takes  place  at  the  rate  of  7§  ounces  of  salt  to  fourteen 
pounds  of  cheese.  A fine  linen  cheese-cloth  is  now  washed  in  warm  water, 
wrung,  and  placed  in  the  chessel,  chessford,  or  vat,  and  half  a hundred- 
weight laid  upon  it  for  an  hour ; this  is  doubled  for  another  hour,  when  the 
cheese  is  taken  out,  placed  in  another  cloth,  and  again  put  under  an  increased 
weight  for  about  three  hours.  This  continues  for  about  four  days ; every 
time  changing  the  cloth,  and  generally  turning  the  cheese  upside  down ; and 
the  weight  is  increased  until  the  cheese  arrives  at  a degree  of  consistency  to 
bear  the  pressure  of  a ton. 

When  taken  out  of  the  press,  the  cheeses  are  placed  in  a very  dry  and 
somewhat  warm  atmosphere,  often  within  the  range  of  the  influence  of  the 
kitchen-fire,  turned  several  times  a-day,  and  rubbed  with  a dry  cloth.  This 
continues  for  a week  or  ten  days,  when  they  are  removed  to  the  cheese- 
room,  where  they  are  exposed  to  a cool  dry  atmosphere  ; a gradual  mode  of 
ripening  being,  at  this  stage,  necessary  to  their  proper  condition.  The  Dun- 
lop cheese  is  seldom  colored,  though  some  herein  imitate  the  Gloucester  and 
Cheshire  fashion.  The  peculiarity  of  management  is  that  of  making  the 
cheese  from  the  milk  from  the  cow  before  it  cools. 


72 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


THE  CHESHIRE  DAIRY  SYSTEM. 

The  Cheshire  cheese  is  as  celebrated  in  England  as  the  Itunlop  is  ;n  Scot* 
land,  and  it  has  long  received  the  greatest  attention  frcin  the  Cheshire 
dairymen.  The  evening’s  milk  is  set  until  the  morning,  when  the  cheese  is 
generally  made,  and  the  cream  taken  off.  The  skim-milk  is  scalded  to 
about  100°,  and  one  half  of  it,  mixed  with  the  new  milk  from  the  cows  of 
the  same  morning,  is  strained  through  a fine  hair  or  gauze  sieve,  while  the’ 
remaining  half  is  mixed  with  the  cream,  which  is  also  added,  so  that  the 
whole  mass  is  about  83°  to  85®;  the  annatto  being  added  to  the  mixture  in 
the  proportion  necessary  to  give  ‘1  e color  aimed  at  in  that  particular  dairy. 
Two  pounds  of  annatto  are  generally  considered  adequate  to  color  a ton  of 
cheese.  The  rennet  is  prepared  exactly  in  the  mode  described  in  speaking 
of  the  Dunlop  cheese,  and  added  in  about  the  same  proportion.  The  tub  is 
then  covered  with  a wooden  cover,  and  a cloth  placed  over  it  to  keep  in  the 
heat,  and  remains  about  an  hour  in  this  condition.  The  curd  is  then  gently 
but  thoroughly  cut  with  a cheese-knife  until  it  is  divided  into  small  pieces, 
and  is  again  left  covered  for  an  hour  to  settle.  The  whey  is  then  taken  out 
by  a pan  or  dish ; the  dish  being  pressed  gently  on  the  curd,  to  gather  up 
the  whey.  The  curd  is  laid  on  a heap  in  the  tub,  and  gently  pressed.  As 
more  and  more  of  the  whey  separates,  the  curd  may  sustain  the  greater 
amount  of  pressure  without  fear  of  forcing  out  the  fatty  matter.  A perfor- 
ated board  is  placed  over  the  curd  in  the  tub,  and  a weight,  of  from  twenty 
to  twenty-five  pounds,  placed  upon  it,  and  again  the  whey  is  bailed  out ; it 
is  then  turned,  and  the  shme  board,  with  a greater  weight,  placed  upon  it. 
It  is  then  cut  into  square  pieces,  and  pressed  once  or  twice,  when  it  is  fit  for 
the  vat  or  chessford,  which  has  in  it  a coarse  cloth.  Before  being  put  in,  the 
curd  is  broken  into  smaller  pieces  and  salted,  then  piled  up  in  the  chessford, 
and  covered  with  the  cloth  by  having  its  edges  turned  over  it;  and  as  soon 
as  the  curd  adheres,  a cover  is  placed  on  the  vat,  and  the  whole  is  pressed 
by  a thirty  pound  weight.  The  curd  is  then  punctured  on  all  sides  with 
skewers  to  admit  of  the  free  escape  of  the  whey.  It  is  taken  out,  cut  in 
slices,  and  again  subjected  to  more  pressure,  and  more  punctures  by  the 
skewers.  The  pressure  is  again  increased,  and  tie  cheese  frequently  turned 
and  the  edges  pared ; the  parings  being  placed  on  the  top  of  the  cheese,  and 
pressed  into  the  center.  A pressure  of  sixteen  hundred  weight  is  now 
given,  the  cloth  changed,  and  the  cheese  turned  several  times  in  forty-eight 
hours ; then  taken  out,  and  immersed  in  or  covered  with  salt.  It  is  some- 
times salted  by  washing  it  with  salt  brine,  and  is,  when  taken  out  of  the  vat, 
placed  in  a cylinder  or  hoop  of  proper  dimensions,  when  it  is  washed  in  warm 
water,  dried  with  a cloth,  and  placed  on  a shelf  to  dry,  where  it  is  allowed 
to  remain  a week.  It  is  afterwards  washed  and  dried  again,  and  anointed 
with  fresh  butter.  It  is  placed  in  a somewhat  warm  situation,  and  rubbed 


THE  LEICESTERSHIRE  DAIRY  SYSTEM. 


79 


every  day,  for  one  week  more,  with  butter,  which  much  improves  its  cha- 
racter, and,  above  all,  its  appearance. 

WHEY  BUTTER 

Is  a product  of  new  milk  dairies,  and  in  Cheshire  is  a branch  of  dairy 
manufacture.  It  was  stated,  that  though  much  of  the  fatty  matter  of  the 
milk  remained  in  the  curd,  yet  some  necessarily  escaped  into  the  whey.  It 
is  already  developed,  but  in  a state  of  feeble  union  with  the  whey,  and  re- 
quires a churning  process  before  it  can  be  collected.  One  hundred  gallons 
of  milk,  made  into  cheese,  will  give  ninety  gallons  of  whey.  This  will 
yield  twelve  gallons  of  fatty,  creamy  matter,  which  when  churned,  will 
give  some  four  pounds  of  butter.  The  mode  of  treating  the  whey  is  to  heat 
it  to  about  180® ; afterwards  it  must  be  well  stirred  to  prevent  it  “ setting 
on.”  At  this  stage  some  sour  butter-milk  is  added,  and  occasionally  some 
white  whey,  in  the  proportion  of  about  1 to  1.70  of  the  former,  and  one 
tenth  of  the  latter.  This  causes  the  butyraceous  matter  to  rise  to  the  sur- 
face of  the  pan,  when  it  is  skimmed  off  and  placed  in  an  earthenware  jar,  to 
take  exactly  the  course  of  fresh  cream — tp  form  lactic  acid,  and  separate 
the  casein  from  the  mass.  The  remainder  of  the  whey  is  then  allowed  to 
run  off  from  the  oily  matter,  which  swims  on  the  surface,  and  this  is  churned 
the  same  w'ay  as  the  ordinary  cream.  The  whey  butter  is  an  inferior  kind, 
worth  about  20  per  cent,  less  than  milk  butter,  and  is  mainly  used  for  pastry 
purposes. 


THE  LEICESTERSHIRE  DAIRY  SYSTEM. 

This  fertile  county,  partly  grazing,  and  partly  dairy,  is  a mixture  of  arable 
and  grass  land,  and  the  pastures  being,  on  the  whole,  rich,  and  the  land  pro- 
ductive, a large  portion  is  grazed  by  cattle.  On  some  farms,  however,  the 
dairy  is  the  principal  object,  and  the  land  enables  them  to  produce  a cheese 
perhaps  unequalled  in  richness.  We  have  hitherto  only  had  our  attention 
directed  to  new,  or  whole- milk  cheese;  but  a step  beyond  this  may  be 
gained.  If  some  of  the  skim-milk  be  rejected,  and  the  cream  added  to  the 
new  milk,  we  have  a still  richer  cheese — the  product  for  which  the  north- 
eastern parts  of  Leicestershire  are  famous ; we  mean  the  far-famed  Stilton 
Cheese.  This  cheese  differs  from  the  Dunlop  as  regards  shape,  and  the 
Cheshire  both  as  to  shape  and  bulk.  The  latter  may  be  from  half  a hun- 
dred-weight to  two  hundred- weight,  though  perhaps  the  former  is  nearer 
the  mark ; but  the  Stilton  seldom  weighs  more  than  from  twelve  to  four- 
teen pounds,  and  is  the  shape  of  a round  hat  without  the  brim,  or  about 
eight  inches  in  diameter  and  nine  or  ten  high.  They  are  generally  made 
by  adding  to  the  new  milk  of  the  morning  the  cream  of  the  milk  given  on 
4 


74 


DAIRY  HUSL  ANDRY. 


the  previous  evening.  If  a richer  cheese  is  required,  more  cream  is  ac  f red, 
and  even  butter  is  sometimes  said  to  be  added  to  enhance  the  peculiar  rich- 
ness of  the  Stilton  cheese.  The  temperature  should  be  about  the  same  as 
for  the  Cheshire,  85°,  and  this  is  attained,  when  necessary,  by  inserting  jugs 
of  hot  water  in  the  mixture.  The  rennet  is  added  without  any  coloring 
matter,  and  in  an  hour  the  curd  is  fully  formed.  Great  care  is  necessary  in 
removing  the  curd.  If  handled  roughly,  or  squeezed  at  all,  the  cheese  is 
seriously  injured.  It  is  usually  gathered  carefully  off  the  whey  by  a wood- 
en dish,  and  placed  upon  a linen  strainer,  which  is  tied  together  at  the  cor- 
ners, after  the  manner  of  making  cheese-cake  curd ; and  the  whey  gently 
strains  off  by  the  pressure  of  its  own  weight  alone,  into  a vessel  beneath, 
which  receives  it.  A little  squeezing  with  the  hand,  or  with  laths,  is  then 
given,  and  the  whole  is  allowed  to  drain  six  or  eight  hours  in  moderately 
warm  weather.  It  is  then  placed  in  a cylinder  of  copper,  zinc,  or  tin,  which 
has  numerous  perforations  at  the  sides,  being  first  secured  in  an  open  or 
coarse  strainer ; gently  cut  in  slices  from  the  first  strainer  with  a sharp 
knife.  In  this  hoop  it  remains  for  four  or  five  days,  being  turned  every  day 
once  or  twice,  and  punctured  with  skewers  through  the  holes  of  the  cylin- 
der after  the  manner  of  the  Cheshire.  Warmth  is  requisite  to  the  ripening 
of  this  descrijmon  of  cheese. 

When  the  curd  has  become  solid,  the  cheese  is  removed  from  the  cy  Under, 
and  bound  up  in  canvas  bandages,  or  rollers,  which  encircle  it  several  times. 
These  are  clean  and  dry,  all  cracks  are  gradually  filled  up,  and  fresh  binders 
supplied  every  morning  for  a week  or  two,  until  the  much  prized  skin  is 
formed  ; after  which  they  are  removed  to  the  drying  place  or  chamber.  It 
is  two  years,  however,  before  a Stilton  cheese  is  at  full  maturity,  except  when 
its  ripening  is  hastened  by  the  method  of  inoculation,  described  at  the  com- 
mencement of  this  chapter. 

THE  GLOUCESTERSHIRE  DAIRY  SYSTEM. 

In  this  district,  celebrated  for  its  double  Gloucester  cheese,  the  practice  is 
not  so  entirely  dissimilar  to  the  Dunlop  and  Cheshire  modes,  as  to  require  a 
very  minute  detail.  They  weigh  usually  about  twenty-two  pounds  each, 
and  are  a rich  and  useful  cheese.  The  single  Gloucester,  or  one-half  new 
milk,  and  one-half  blue,  or  skimmed,  are  disappearing  from  public  approba- 
tion. The  milk  fresh  from  the  cows  is  taken  and  mixed  at  once  with  the 
rennet  and  annatto,  and  left  for  an  hour  covered  up  to  prevent  the  escape  of 
the  heat,  which  is  maintained,  so  far  as  it  can  be,  at  the  same  degree  as  in 
Cheshire,  and  the  curd  is  broken  by  a knife  with  three  blades,  or  a sieve 
made  of  wire.  The  whey  is  taken  out  with  a wooden  dish,  and  is  placed  in 
the  vat,  over  which  a linen  cloth  is  spread.  Into  this  cloth  the  curd  is  put, 
and  pressed  with  the  hands  until  it  will  bear  the  cover  of  the  vat,  which  is 


THE  DEVONSHIRE  DAIRY  SYSTEM. 


75 


then  placed  upon  it,  and  loaded  with  a weight,  or  it  is  placed  in  the  cheese 
press.  The  curd  is  th,*n  torn  in  pieces  by  a curd  mill,  and  again  placed  with 
a clean  cloth  in  the  vat,  and  pressed.  In  four  or  five  days  the  curd  i^ 
thoroughly  deprived  of  the  whey,  and  is  taken  out  to  undergo  the  process 
of  drying.  No  salt  is  mixed  with  the  curd,  but  it  is  rubbed  upon  the  exterior 
of  the  cheese,  some  twelve  to  twenty  hours  after  it  has  been  putin  the  press. 
It  is  rubbed  in  with  the  hand,  so  long  as  the  curd  appears  to  absorb  it;  and 
the  cheese  is  again  transferred  to  the  press.  This  takes  place  three  times 
each  day,  and  the  quantity  of  salt,  allowing  for  waste,  which  a cheese  of 
twenty-two  pounds  will  absorb,  will  be  about  ten  ounces.  When  taken 
from  the  cloth,  they  are  wiped  and  laid  to  dry,  in  the  ordinary  manner,  being 
frequently  turned.  When  intended  for  sale  in  London,  they  are  scraped  and 
painted.  A coat  of  red  coloring  matter,  dissolved  in  ale,,  is  used,  which 
is  rubbed  on  the  cheese  with  flannel.  Of  course  this  has  no  beneficial  ten- 
dency. 


THE  DEVONSHIRE  DAIRY  SYSTEM. 

This  is  peculiar,  especially  as  regards  the  manufacture  of  butter.  It  is  said 
that  the  process  adopted  there,  is  one  productive  of  more  butter,  and  that  of 
a better  quality,  and  more  agreeable  flavor,  than  any  other.  The  cream,  be- 
fore churning,  undergoes  the  process  of  clotting , or  clouting , and  the  clouted 
cream  is  thus  procured.  As  soon  as  the  milking  and  skimming  processes  are 
over,  the  Warm  new  milk  is  placed  in  a brass  pan,  sufficiently  capacious  to 
hold  the  meal.  A small  quantity  of  cold  water  is  placed  in  the  pan,  and  here 
it  stands  in  the  day  time  for  six  hours,  or  at  night  till  the  following  morning. 
It  is  then  carefully  placed  near  a slow  charcoal  or  coke  fire,  so  as  to  be  heat- 
ed to  a certain  point,  but  not  permitted  to  boil.  It  is  a delicate  matter  to 
have  a fire  just  brisk  enough  to  prevent  the  milk  from  curdling  in  summer, 
and  still  not  so  hot  as  to  cause  it  to  heave  or  boil.  A firm  consistency  on  the 
surface,  and  a tough  consolidated  appearance  are  the  criterions  usually  de- 
pended upon  for  the  proper  amount  of  heat. 

When  sufficiently  scalded,  the  pan  and  its  contents  are  removed  to  a cool 
place  in  summer,  and  covered  over,  until  cool,  with  a woollen  cloth  in  win- 
ter, when  the  cream  is  taken  off.  The  churning  may  then  either  be  per- 
formed at  once,  or  delayed  a day  or  two ; but  no  souring  is  necessary  in  this 
clouted  cream — a reason  why  the  butter  may  be  considered  more  palatable 
to  some  tastes.  The  process  of  churning  is  very  simple : the  cream  is  placed 
in  wooden  bowls,  which  are  alternately  scalded  with  hot,  and  washed  with 
cold  water — a process  which  by  evaporation  is  said  to  cool  them  beyond 
anything  else  in  which  the  cream  can  be  placed — it  is  then  briskly  stirred  by 
the  hand,  or  by  a u whisk”  of  peeled  willows,  until  the  buttermilk  separates 
from  the  butter,  which  is  usually  effected  in  some  ten  minutes.  The  butter* 


16 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


milk  being  poured  off,  the  butter  is  washed  with  fresh  water,  a little  salt 
added,  and  the  butter  repeatedly  beaten  either  by  the  hand,  or  with  a 
w'ooden  trencher  or  spatula.  It  is  then  formed  into  small  cakes,  and  impress- 
ed with  either  the  peculiar  device  of  the  dairy,  or  some  lanciful  emblem,  and 
is  ready  for  the  market. 

THE  YORKSHIRE  DAIRY  SYSTEM. 

The  dairy  husbandry  of  Yorkshire  is  a combination  of  the  ordinary 
operations  of  some  four  distinct  classes  of  dairy-farming.  The  one  is  the 
making  of  butter  in  rolls,  stones,  or  firkins,  for  the  manufacturing  districts  of 
the  West  of  England,  and  is  often  combined  with  the  making  of  skim  milk 
cheese , as  it  is  provincially  called.  The  other  is  the  making  of  new  milk 
cheese,  practised  in  Wcnsleydnle , and  to  a small  extent  in  Cleveland ; these 
two  latter  modes  we  shall  not  describe,  as  they  are  not  materially  different 
from  that  of  other  districts ; and  lastly  the  making  of  cream  cheese , mainly 
confined  to  the  valleys  of  the  west,  and  known  as  York  cream  cheese. 

The  Yorkshire  Butter  is  usually  made  from  dairies  of  from  six  to  fifteen 
cows.  In  summer  the  milk,  after  straining,  is  placed  in  a large  brass 
“ kettle,”  or  cooler,  and  often  stirred,  to  dissipate  the  foam,  and  prevent  the 
setting  of  the  cream.  In  winter  this  process  is  unnecessary,  and  it  is  at 
once  strained  into  leaden  bowls,  in  which  it  is  usually  kept,  a little  hot  water 
being  added  to  the  milk  in  whiter,  to  evaporate  the  aroma  of  any  roots  the 
animals  may  have  eaten,  and  in  summer  a little  cold  water  is  added,  which 
is  said  to  facilitate  the  separation  of  the  cream.  In  winter  it  remains  twen- 
ty-four hours  in  the  bowls  ; in  summer  twelve,  and  even  less,  for  the  dairy- 
woman  watches  the  milk  with  the  assiduity  of  a hay-rnaker  in  a showery 
hay-time,  and  on  the  least  advance  of  heat,  or  tendency  to  thunder,  she  sepa- 
rates the  milk  from  the  cream.  The  bowl  contains  a plug  in  the  bottom. 
This  is  taken  out,  and  the  milk  runs  off,  and  is  taken  away;  the  plug  being 
returned  to  arrest  the  flow  of  the  cream.  The  cream  is  then  also  let  off  into 
an  earthen  vessel,  or  pancheon,  and  the  leaden  bowl  being  nicely  scraped 
with  a thin  piece  of  horn,  is  carefully  washed  and  scalded,  and  is  ready,  when 
cool,  for  the  next  meal  of  milk.  The  cream  is  kept  in  these  earthen  jars 
or  vessels,  and  stirred  frequently ; and  in  winter  placed  before  the  fire  all 
night,  to  acquire  the  fermentation  necessary  to  an  easy  and  rapid  churning. 
If  the  cattle  have  had  turnips,  a little  saltpetre  is  added  to  the  cream  ; and  if 
there  is  no  recently  calved  cow  amongst  the  dairy  herd,  a little  rolled  annatto, 
or,  what  is  better,  an  infusion  of  grated  carrots  is  added,  to  give  the  butter  the 
color  requisite  for  the  taste  of  the  markets.  The  cream  is  then  strained 
again  into  a clean,  and  well-scalded  churn,  which  is  turned  gently  at  first, 
and  frequently  vented,  to  allow  the  escape  of  the  air  accumulated  by  the 
churning.  When  this  escape  ceases,  it  is  turned  briskly  round,  and  if  all  it 


BLUE  MILK  CHEESE. 


n 


right  will  be  churned  in  twenty  minutes.  If  the  process  is  slow  in  winter, 
a little  hot  water  is  added,  the  sign  of  the  formation  of  butter  being  the  wa- 
tery sound  in  the  churn,  and  a semi-curdled  appearance  on  the  vent  cork. 
As  soon  as  the  butter  is  forming,  the  churn  is  turned  much  more  carefully 
round,  and  the  butter  begins  to  collect.  As  this  goes  on,  a little  of  the  but- 
termilk is  let  off,  and  the  butter,  when  finally  collected  and  freed  from  all  the 
remaining  buttermilk,  is  placed  with  cold  water  into  the  butter  trough, 
washed  and  kneaded  several  times  in  fresh  supplies  of  cold  spring  water.  It 
is  then  salted,  and  either  worked  into  rolls,  which  usually  consist  of  some 
twenty-four  ounces,  or  rolled  up  into  lumps  of  fourteen  pounds,  called  “ store 
butter.”  In  other  cases  it  is  put  away  in  wooden  casks,  called  firkins, 
usually  a mode  in  which  it  is  preserved  till  the  winter,  and  made  up  into 
pounds  then  by  being  washed  in  milk  and  resalted  ; in  this  state  it  is  sold  to 
their  customers  by  the  huxters,  who  think  a little  rancidity  is  not  too  great 
a penalty  to  pay  for  escaping  the  taste  of  turnips,  so  common  in  winter-made 
butter. 

BLUE  MILK  CHEESE. 

This  cheese  is  made  in  the  great  butter  dairies,  and  is  a sort  of  accom- 
paniment to  the  combined  dairy  system  of  Yorkshire.  The  milk,  while 
sweet — one  reason  why  the  dairy  woman  must  be  stirring  in  summer  by 
three  or  four  o’clock  in  the  morning,  or  even  earlier — is  placed  in  a kettle, 
the  rennet  is  added,  with  the  coloring,  which  consists  of  annatto,  and  the 
whole  mass  heated  to  something  like  blood-heat ; the  hand  being  the  gene- 
ral test  of  its  extent,  and  perhaps  90°  being  the  nearest  approximation  to  it 
that  we  can  arrive  at.  When  the  curd  is  formed,  it  is  laved  out  with  a dish 
into  the  butter-trough,  and  the  whey  allowed  to  drip  from  it  through  a hole 
in  the  bottom.  When  all  the  whey  has  escaped,  it  is  either  broken  very 
small  by  the  hand,  or  placed  in  a curd-mill ; for,  having  little  of  the  butyr- 
aceous  matter  present  in  whole  or  new  milk  cheeses,  there  is  less  fear  of  ma- 
nipulating the  skim-milk  curd  than  there  is  in  the  cases  of  Dunlop  and  Stil- 
ton. A cloth  is  then  spread  over  a vat,  and  it  is  put  in  a press,  turned  every 
night  and  morning  till  the  whole  of  the  whey  is  expressed ; the  cloth  being 
changed  every  turning.  It  is  then  put  away  to  dry  and  ripen,  and  was  once 
a favorite  substance  for  a morning  or  evening  meal,  for  the  farm-servants, 
with  bread  and  milk.  They  now,  however,  dislike  and  despise  it,  and  have 
oftener  animal  food  three  times  per  day  than  anything  else.  It  is  used  with 
bread  and  ale,  for  their  “ drinkings”  in  harvest. 

THE  YORK  CREAM  CHEESES 

Are  not,  as  the  name  would  purport  them  to  be,  made  at  York ; but  are 
mainly  made  in  the  poorer  valleys  at  the  western  extremity  of  the  county. 
The  village  of  Gruelthorpe  has  the  envied  notoriety  of  making  the  best 


78 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


rream  cheese, — a great  trade  with  London,  and  all  parts  of  the  kingdom 
being  carried  on  by  the  inhabitants  of  this  locality.  The  process  is  simple, 
and  depends,  like  almost  all  other  dairy  practices,  on  the  most  scrupulous 
regard  to  cleanliness,  and  freedom  from  the  taint  of  all  kinds  of  putrefaction. 
There  are  two  kinds  of  cream  cheeses— one  which  is  made  by  simply  plac- 
ing the  cream  in  an  oblong  tin  case,  perforated  with  holes,  from  which  the 
milk  and  watery  portions  of  the  cream  leave  the  thick  cream,  and  to  which 
a little  hand-pressure  is  applied.  But  the  genuine  cream  cheese  is  made  of 
the  cream  coagulated  by  the  steep  of  the  rennet  in  the  following  manner : — 
Five  quarts  of  the  strippings  (the  last  milk  given  by  the  cow)  are  put  in  a 
pan,  with  two  spoonsful  of  rennet.  The  curd,  when  formed  by  gentle  heat, 
is  broken  down  two  or  three  times  with  a dish.  It  is  then  allowed  to  stand 
on  a sieve,  covered  w’ith  a clean  napkin,  for  some  two  hours,  when  a little 
pressure  is  applied  by  the  hand,  or  by  a fluted  piece  of  wood, — and  it  is  ready 
for  use  in  three  weeks. 

THE  WILTSHIRE  DAIRY  SYSTEM. 

This  will  close  our  description  of  the  English  modes  of  dairy  manage- 
ment ; and  would  not  have  been  introduced,  for  even  this  cursory  notice,  had 
it  not  been  the  district  which  supplies  the  celebrated  Cheddar  cheese ; for, 
although  the  Cheddar  valley  is  really  in  an  adjoining  county,  yet  the  greatest 
part  of  the  cheese  known  by  that  name,  sold  in  London,  is  made  in  Wilt- 
shire. These  conical-shaped  cheeses  very  slightly  differ  from  the  Dunlop 
in  their  actual  make.  The  smallness  of  their  size  enables  the  dairyman  to 
make  a cheese  for  every  meal ; and  also  prevents  the  necessity  for  so  much 
pressure  as  is  used  in  some  other  kinds,  by  which  a great  quantity  of  the  but- 
ter is  crushed  out.  The  only  severe  manipulation  is  the  breaking  of  the  curd, 
which  is  performed  in  a very  minute  degree ; this  enables  the  dairyman  to 
allow  a great  portion  of  the  whey  to  drain  off,  with  no  other  compression 
than  is  given  by  its  own  weight,  the  curd  being  disposed  in  a conical  form 
in  which  position  it  remains  some  twenty-four  hours.  It  is  then  suspendet 
in  an  open  coarse  cloth,  or  even  net,  to  admit  air  freely,  and  is  so  small  in 
dimensions,  and  especially  in  diameter,  that  the  w’hey  is  dried  up  by  eva- 
poration, before  it  becomes  rancid  or  spoils  the  cheese.  The  freshness  of  the 
milk  has  also  a favorable  tendency  in  this  particular.  The  salt  is  added  to 
the  curd. 


FOREIGN  DAIRY  MANAGEMENT. 

Climate,  as  well  as  breeds  of  cattle  and  kinds  of  pasturage,  have  influence 
on  the  production  of  cheese,  as  well  as  butter ; and  though  few  countries 
can  vie  with  our  own  in  the  excellency  of  its  general  dairy  productions,  still 
in  some  particulars,  foreigners  are  our  superiors.  Take,  as  an  instance 


SYSTEMS  OF  ITALY  AND  SWITZERLAND. 


70 


THE  DAIRY  SYSTEM  OF  ITALY, 

Esteciily  in  the  manufacture  of  Parmesan  cheese  ; — which,  though  partly 
skim>miik  cheese,  is  almost  equal  to  some  of  our  very  best  home  produc- 
tions from  milk  ; it  is  also  in  great  demand  by  the  epicures  of  our  large  cities. 
From  the  great  size  of  the  cheese,  containing  sometimes  as  much  as  two 
hundred  weight,  they  often  require  eighty  or  ninety  cows  in  a dairy  to  make 
them  to  perfection.  One-half  of  the  milk  is  kept  twelve  hours,  and  then 
skimmed;  the  other  half,  six  hours,  and  also  skimmed ; they  are  then  put 
together  in  a pan,  and  heated  to  a greater  heat  than  English  skim-milk 
cheese,  sometimes  as  high  as  120°  Fahrenheit.  After  it  has  a little  cooled, 
the  rennet  is  added,  and  the  curd  being  formed,  the  mass  is  again  heated  to  a 
still  greater  heat  (140°) , taking  care  to  stir  the  mass  rapidly  during  the  heat- 
ing. This  breaks  the  curd  into  small  pieces,  and  saves  the  curd-mill, 
to  which  it  is  said  so  much  of  the  toughness  of  the  English  skim-milk  cheese 
is  due.  The  whey  is  run  off,  and  the  curd  colored  slightly  with  saffron. 
The  mass  has  then  cold  water  added  to  cause  it  to  coagulate  and  set,  it  is 
then  collected  from  the  whey  with  a cloth,  and  placed  in  a fixed  press.  The 
next  day  the  cheese,  for  so  it  must  now  be  called,  is  taken  out  and  rubbed  on 
one  side  with  salt,  and  again  subjected  to  pressure.  This  rubbing  with  salt 
is  repeated  on  the  other  side,  when  it  is  again  turned,  continuing  the  process 
of  turning  and  salting,  with  the  pressure,  for  forty  days.  For  preservation, 
the  surface  of  the  cheese  is  rubbed  with,  linseed  oil,  and  a red  ochery  coat  is 
given  to  one  side;  when  the  cheese  is  fit  for  sale,  this  favorite  production 
fetches  a large  price. 

Mascarponi  cheese  is  also  an  Italian  production,  and  somewhat  resembles 
our  cream  cheeses,  but  made  rather  after  the  Devonshire  mode  than  the 
Yorkshire.  The  cream  is  heated  nearly  up  to  the  boiling  point ; and,  when 
the  butyraceous  matter  begins  to  separate,  a little  sour  whey  is  added  to  the 
mass,  which  forms  a sort  of  curd ; this  is  taken  out  and  placed  in  moulds, — 
having  perforated  bottoms,  through  which  the  whey  escapes, — to  take  such 
shapes  as  fancy  or  custom  may  dictate ; and  when  come  to  a proper  con- 
sistence, they  are  deposited  in  napkins,  covered  with  straw  or  leaves,  and 
pressed  gently  with  the  hand.  Sometimes  tartaric  acid  is  used  instead  of 
the  fermented  whey,  as  the  latter,  occasionally  containing  particles  of  putrid 
casein,  is  apt  to  give  a rancid  taste  to  the  cheese,  and  diminish  its  keeping 
qualities.  T e kind  of  acid  is  not  material. 

THE  DAIRY  SYSTEM  OF  SWITZERLAND. 

The  Swiss  butter  has  the  remarkable  peculiarity  of  keeping  for  ten  or 
eleven  months  perfectly  sweet,  without  any  admixture  of  salt.  Some  attri- 
bute this  to  extra  diligence  and  care  on  the  part  of  the  dairy  people,  in  ex- 
pressing the  buttermilk,  and  to  the  peculiar  mode  of  preservation  adopted 


80 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


but  in  all  probability  it  is  due  to  the  cool  and  highly  rarified  air  o'  the  moun- 
tain districts,  which  are  the  most  favorable  for  its  preservation.  The  blit- 
ter is  made  every  day,  so  that  no  decomposing  putrescence  takes  place  in 
the  cream ; when  made,  it  is  washed  with  the  greatest  care,  and  a grea1 
deal  of  kneading  and  compression  in  the  pure  spring  water  of  the  district 
takes  place.  It  is  then  deposited  in  the  following  extraordinary  manner. 
A narrow  board  is  fixed  across  the  dairy,  like  a kind  of  shelf^  but  in  the  part 
where  it  is  most  exposed  to  a free  current  of  air ; to  the  surface  of  this  are 
attached  a row  of  wooden  spikes,  some  two  or  three  feet  long.  As  the  but- 
ter is  made,  it  is  plastered  to  the  top  of  one  of  these  spikes ; and  so  the  de- 
posit of  butter  continues  to  accumulate  every  day  till  the  whole  is  covered, 
and  each  deposite  of  butter  is  dried  and  preserved  as  it  is  placed  on  the  pin, 
but  more  upwards  than  downwards,  until  it  forms  a sort  of  inverted  cone ; 
the  top  overhanging  the  base  to  permit  the  more  facile  dripping  of  the  moist- 
ure. In  a short  time  a hard  air-tight  covering  envelops  the  mass,  and  ren- 
ders it  so  impervious  to  air  that  it  will  be  found  perfectly  fresh  for  several 
months. 

The  boiled  butter  is  another  mode  of  preserving  the  produce  of  the  Swiss 
mountain  sides,  and  is  thus  manufactured : — A quantity  of  thirty  or  forty 
pounds  of  butter  is  placed  in  a large  copper,  over  a very  slow  fire,  until  the 
whole  is  gently  melted.  This  slow  fire  is  continued  until  the  whole  comes 
to  a boiling  point,  generally  in  about  two  hours,  careful  stirring  at  intervals 
taking  place  during  the  whole  period.  The  boiling  must  be  gradually  and 
gently  kept  up  for  the  same  period  as  it  took  to  arrive  at  the  boiling  point, 
and  still  continuing  the  stirring.  After  this  it  is  allowed  to  cool  slowly 
down,  which  may  occupy  about  two  hours  more.  The  deposited  mass  of 
caseous  matter,  coagulated  by  the  heat,  then  takes  place ; and  the  butter, 
while  just  so  warm  as  to  pour,  is  carefully  taken  off  the  cheesy  mass,  and 
corked  up  in  air-tight  jars,  when  it  may  be  kept  sweet,  though  of  course 
without  the  flavor  of  fresh  butter,  for  any  number  of  years. 

THE  HOLSTEIN  DAIRY  SYSTEM, 

Is  one  which  turns  out  very  celebrated  butter,  and  this  is  only  due  to  the 
simple  fact  that,  being  itself  so  important  a production  as  to  be  worthy  of 
attention  as  a manufacture,  all  its  details  are  managed  with  attention  and 
skill,  and  consequently  well  done  ; this  can  never  be  the  case  when  it  is  com- 
bined with  the  perplexities  of  arable  farming.  The  dairies  in  Holstein  vary 
from  100  to  1000  cows,  and  the  establishment  consists  of  a distinct  suite  of 
dairy  apartments.  In  some  of  the  best  dairies  the  milk-dishes  are  placed  in 
a raised  brick  ledge,  forming  a sort  of  open  drain,  and  in  hot  weather  cold 
spring  water  is  pumped  into  them,  so  as  to  give  artificial  coolness  to  the 
milk  in  the  pans.  Sometimes  even  a large  piece  of  ice  is  introduced  into  the 
dairy,  and  even  into  the  churn,  to  lower  the  temperature  when  the  heat  is 


COTTAGE  AND  SUBURBAN  DAIRIES. 


81 


excessive.  Milking  is  performed  earlier  in  the  morning  than  common. 
Three  o’clock,  and  even  two,  are  hours  at  which  they  are  occasionally  stir- 
ring ; and  the  milking  takes  place  at  four,  and  in  general  five  in  the  afternoon. 
The  milk  is  placed  in  vessels  of  wood,  zinc,  lead,  glass,  and  sometimes  of 
various  materials  lined  with  china  or  delf.  Of  course,  when  the  ledges  we 
before  spoke  of  are  in  use,  the  glass  or  zinc  vessels  are  used,  as  wood  is  too 
slow  a conductor  of  heat  to  admit  of  the  carrying  out  of  the  water-cooling  pro- 
cess. The  churning  and  attendance  are  the  same  as  jn  every  well-managed 
dairy  ; but  the  making  of  the  butter  is  peculiar.  It  is  never  washed  at  all, 
which  is  said  in  Holstein  to  injure  the  butter.  It  is  salted  with  some  one 
and  one-eighth  pound  of  salt  to  fourteen  pounds  of  butter,  and  subjected  to  a 
good  deal  of  pressure,  kneading,  and  beating,  by  being  lifted  up  and  thrown 
down  again  into  the  trough : it  is  then  allowed  to  soak  or  drip  for  several 
hours,  when  it  is  again  subjected  to  the  same  treatment.  When  a sufficient 
quantity  of  butter  is  made  to  fill  one  of  the  casks  or  firkins, — of  which  there 
are  three  sizes  made,  one  containing  about  a hundredweight,  another  some 
one  hundred  and  forty  pounds,  and  the  third  two  hundredweight, — it  is  re- 
kneaded and  packed  in  a salt-seasoned  cask  ; care  being  taken  to  make  the 
cask  perfectly  air-tight.  Skim-milk  cheese  is  also  made  exactly  in  the 
mode  in  which  it  is  made  in  England,  only  on  a scale  considerably  greater. 

This  brief  sketch  comprises  all  that  we  need  say  on  the  leading  dairy  sys- 
tems, and  in  the  course  of  it  the  peculiar  principles  which  ought  to  guide  the 
dairyman  in  improving  his  system,  have  been  pretty  clearly  developed. 
The  large  establishment  of  the  dairy  husbandman  and  the  small  product  of 
the  cottier  require  to  be  directed  by  the  same  great  essential  principles  of 
dairy  management ; watchful  attention  to  the  health  and  comfort  of  the  ani- 
mals, and  careful  milking,  perfect  cleanliness  in  the  dairy  itself,  and  careful 
watching  of  the  proper  time  and  weather  for  the  various  operations. 

COTTAGE  AND  SUBURBAN  DAIRIES. 

Although  an  attempt  has  been. made  in  the  progress  of  this  treatise,  to 
describe,  step  by  step,  the  details  of  dairy  management  and  cattle  keeping, 
and  to  elucidate  the  best  principles  of  management,  yet  it  may  be  considered 
desirable  to  afford  to  the  cottager  and  the  amateur,  who  may  have  a limited 
area  of  land,  the  means  of  making  the  most  of  their  resources.  The  latter 
has  usually  two  or  three  acres  of  grass,  the  former  somewhat  less  of  arable 
land,  and  there  are  modes  of  management  which  will  enable  them  both,  with 
proper  care  and  labor  spent  upon  it,  to  produce  double  the  quantity  as  com- 
pared to  ordinarily  farmed  land. 

The  capabilities  of  arable  land  for  growing  green  crops  are  almost  unlimit- 
ed ; and  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  over-rate  the  productiveness  of  a small  area 
of  land,  when  carefully  and  liberally  farmed. 

The  quantity  of  arable  land  necessary  to  the  keep  of  a cow  all  the  year 

4* 


82 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


round,  will  necessarily  depend  upon  its  quality ; but  if  useful  land,  and  once 
in  heart,  it  may  be  taken  at  one  and  a half  acres.  If  not  in  condition,  it  will 
require  deep  trenching  ; if  light  land,  claying  and  well  manuring ; but  once 
in  good  fertile  condition  it  may  be  readily  kept  so,  only  requiring  a very 
small  amount  of  extraneous  food  to  be  given  to  the  cattle.  The  cropping 
that  should  be  adopted  to  attain  the  largest  amount  of  food  is,  first  to  sow 
the  land  with  rye,  clover,  winter  tares,  and  Italian  ryegrass.  In  favorable 
localities  the  rye  will  be  fit  to  cut  in  February.  It  is  supposed  that  all  the 
crops  are  to  be  soiled,  that  is,  consumed  in  the  stall ; as  soon  as  the  rye  is  off, 
the  land  must  be  digged  and  planted  with  potatoes,  cabbages  being  inserted 
between  the  rows,  and  beans  planted  between  the  potatoes.  The  Italian  rye- 
grass is  next  soiled,  and  after  each  cutting  the  land  must  be  well  saturated 
with  liquid  manure  brought  from  the  cow-house.  When  this  is  once  cut 
down  the  winter  tares  may  be  eaten  off,  and  the  land  dug  for  fumips,  Swedes 
for  the  spring,  and  white  Norfolk  for  the  winter,  or  if  near  the  sea,  mangel 
wurzel  will  be  the  most  advisable  crop.  The  clover  and  Italian  ryegrass  will 
then  alternate  with  each  other,  taking  care  that  the  latter  is  always  dressed 
with  liquid  manure,  for  it  has  not  the  same  effect  on  the  clover.  The  bean 
straw  may  be  chopped  and  the  beans  crushed,  and  thus  a great  amount  of 
green  food,  both  large  in  quantity  and  valuable  in  quality,  will  be  afforded 
all  the  year  round.* 

Where  the  amateur  has  grass  land  only,  it  will  be  necessary  to  set  apart  a 
portion  for  meadow,  and  the  rest  for  soiling.  The  latter  should  have  a dress- 
ing prepared  of  wood  scrapings,  clay,  and  decayed  vegetable  matter,  applied 
in  February,  with  a pretty  liberal  hand,  the  whole  of  this  compost  being  well 
saturated,  under  cover,  with  liquid  manure.  In  addition,  there  should  be  ap- 
plied tv£o  hundred-weight  of  guano  per  acre,  and  either  along  with  it,  or  soon 
after,  there  should  be  brushed  in,  half  a peck  per  acre  of  Italian  ryegrass 
seed.  When  ready  for  cutting,  this  should  be  mixed  with  hay,  a mixture  of 
boiled  ground  linseed,  and  bean  or  barley  meal  poured  upon  it,  in  the  propor- 
tion of  one  pound  of  the  former  and  two  pounds  of  the  latter  to  the  gallon  ; the 
grass,  after  every  cutting  to  be  dressed  with  the  liquid  manure.  Three,  and 
in  favorable  years  four,  cuttings  may  be  easily  made.  When  the  hay  has 
been  mown  and  made  in  the  lap-cock  fashion,  the  land  should  have  a dressing 
of  liquid  manure,  and  the  fog  soiled  the  same  as  the  grass.  When  the  sea- 
son is  unfavorable  or  the  grass  deficient,  the  linseed  compound  may  be  resort- 
ed to.  In  winter,  cut  hay,  given  with  linseed  compound,  varied  by  occasional 
meals  of  brewers’  grains,  will  be  found  invaluable  substitutes.  Green  food 
may  then  be  given  from  March  till  November,  and  hay  for  the  rest  of  the 
period  mixed  with  linseed  compound,  in  which  case  roots  so  difficult  to  ob- 
tain by  the  suburban  amateur  may  be  dispensed  with  altogether. 

* Of  course  in  America  a different  system  must  be  pursued.  The  green  crop  should 
be  Indian  corn.  Clover  for  summer  and  roots  with  hay  for  winter. — Am.  Ed. 


COTTAGE  ANr  SUBURBAN  DAIRIES. 


83 


The  cou-hmse  should  be  as  airy  as  possible,  and  if  with  weather  boarding 
facing  the  south  and  west,  so  much  the  better.  The  floor  may  be  boarded 
or  flagged,  with  a slope  from  the  head  of  the  animal  to  the  tail,  a channel 
behind,  and  a drain  into  a tank,  of  the  capacity  of  one  hundred  gallons  per 
cow,  well  coated  inside  with  Roman  cement.  The  whole  should  be  kept 
white-washed  and  perfectly  clean,  and  free  from  all  disagreeable  smells. 
Where  the  floor  is  boarded,  the  litter,  so  often  difficult  to  obtain,  may  be  dis- 
pensed with  ; but  if  the  floor  is  flagged  with  stone,  or  indeed,  in  any  case,  it  is 
desirable  to  litter  her  with  an  ample  supply  of  saw-dust.  The  fragrant 
freshness  of  the  wood,  the  soft  bed  it  makes,  the  absorbant  character  of  the 
material,  and  above  all,  the  facility  it  affords  as  a vehicle  for  conveying  away 
the  solid  manure,  render  it  exceedingly  valuable  as  a litter  for  cows.  More- 
over, it  is  as  easily  obtained  as  it  is  almost  invariably  overlooked.  The 
cows  should  be  regularly  fed  and  well  curried,  and,  if  possible,  turned  out 
daily  in  fine  weather,  for  two  hours  per  day,  for  open-air  exercise.  The  cot- 
tager, at  the  expense  of  very  little  labor  and  ingenuity,  may  construct  for 
himself  a very  excellent  cow  house  at  little  cost. 

The  dairy  should  be  quite  apart  from  the  house,  and,  how  small  soever  its 
dimensions,  should  be  strictly  kept  for  dairy  purposes.  No  cooking,  nor  de- 
cayed meat,  nor  any  offensive  processes  should  be  allowed  within  its  pre- 
cincts, but  only  such  as  are  connected  with  the  management  of  the  milk.  It 
should  face  the  north,  and  admit  of  free  ventilation.  It  ought  to  be  a little 
sunk  in  the  ground,  with  a sloping  floor,  and  have  a pipe  carried  into  it  in 
connection  with  the  pump,  and  also  a drain  running  out.  In  hot  weather  the 
■water  from  the  pump  should  be  allowed  to  trickle  on  the  floor ; at  any  rate, 
daily  washing  should  be  scrupulously  attended  to.  Glass  milk-pans  are  neat 
and  elegant  vehicles  for  holding  the  milk,  are  easily  removed,  and  any  want 
of  cleanliness  in  them  is  readily  detected.  The  amateur  should  also  have  a 
pipe  from  the  boiler  of  the  kitchen  fire,  into  which,  at  pleasure,  he  can  allow 
the  hot  water  to  flow.  This  pipe  should  be  carried  under  the  table  on  which 
the  milk-pans  are  placed,  and  in  very  severe  frosts  of  winter  it  will  be  use- 
ful in  keeping  up  the  requisite  temperature. 

The  dairy  operations  of  the  small  cow-keeper,  whether  for  livelihood  or 
pleasure,  are  necessarily  on  a small  scale,  and  do  not  admit  of  many  appli- 
ances. Attention  to  cleanliness  is,  above  all  things,  requisite.  The  main 
points  are  the  thorough  scalding  of  the  milk-pans,  the  pails,  and  the  whole 
of  the  dairy  utensils.  The  proper  cooling  and  stirring  of  the  milk  in  sum- 
mer, when  first  brought  into  the  dairy,  until  the  whole  of  the  foam  generated 
in  milking  is  subsided ; the  careful  straining  of  the  milk  through  a gauze  or 
wire  seive,  and  the  creaming  of  the  milk  before  it  is  allowed  to  turn  sour  in 
the  slightest  degree.  The  cream,  when  collected,  must  be  frequently  stirred, 
especially  in  summer,  ^nd  in  winter,  warmed  before  the  fire  all  night  pre- 
vious to  the  operation  of  churning.  This,  for  small  cow-k°epers,  may  be 


84 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


performed  either  with  the  ordinary  stand-churn,  or  with  the  Ameiican  c><r. 
now  common  in  most  parts  of  the  country,  and  which  is  very  suitable  lor 
churning  small  quantities  of  butter. 

It  is  needless  to  recapitulate  the  directions  as  to  the  management  of  cream 
umd  butter , because  there  is  no  difference  between  the  mode  of  regulation  re- 
quired for  a dairy  with  one  cow  or  with  twenty.  Care,  attention,  early 
rising,  good  ventilation,  and  cleanliness,  even  to  fastidiousness,  are  the  cardinal 
virtues  of  dairy  management. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

FEEDING  OF  DAIRY  COWS  AND  REARING  OF  CALVES. 

The  main  points  in  the  controversy  as  to  whether  dairy  cows  should  be 
house-fed  on  cut  grass  in  summer,  or  pasture-fed,  has  been  partly  anticipated 
by  the  previous  remarks  It  is  an  unsettled  point,  because  the  advocates  of 
each  system  are  unwilling  to  give  in  to  the  other,  and  the  truth  is  that  each 
system  has  its  peculiar  advantages  in  peculiar  situations.  The  element  of 
cost  of  land  and  labor,  of  nearness  to  and  distance  from  a large  town,  of  the 
nature  of  the  grass  or  herbage,  of  the  conveniences  of  the  occupier,  and  fifty 
other  considerations,  w’ill  make  the  scale  of  profit  preponderate  one  way  or 
the  other.  In  large  towns,  for  instance,  where  land  is  dear  and  at  a distance 
from  the  dairy,  it  is  found  to  be  more  economical  to  cart  the  materials  of 
food  to  the  cattle.  For  small  cottiers  also,  for  instance,  when  they  have  but 
a small  quantity  of  land,  and  this  perhaps  dear,  and  their  labor  of  little  value, 
soiling  or  summer  feeding  in  the  house  will  be  abundantly  preferable.  But 
in  the  majority  of  strictly  dairy  farms,  w'here  there  is  a large  range  of  poor 
pasture,  the  grass  of  which  would  hardly  repay  the  cost  of  cutting  and  cart- 
ing, there  can  be  no  question  whatever  that  there  must  be  a complete  revo- 
lution in  the  nature  of  the  occupation,  and  of  the  character  of  the  soil  itself, 
before  any  change  can  ever  be  expected  to  take  place. 

It  is  a very  important  question,  however,  whether  the  two  systems  may  not 
be  combined  w'ith  profit.  We  mean,  that,  instead  of  alloting  an  acre  or  an 
acre  and  a half  of  land  to  a milking  cow,  that  two-thirds  of  that  quantity 
should  be  provided,  and  here  she  should  roam  at  liberty,  with  plenty  of  run- 
ning water  if  possible,  and  either  large  shady  trees  or  an  ample  shed  for  shel- 
ter, while,  at  each  milking  time,  she  is  to  be  supplied  with  a bundle  of  tares 
or  clover,  of  saintfoin  or  lucerne ; under  this  treatment  she  will  be  found  am- 
ply to  repay  the  trouble.  The  principal  danger  of  house-feeding  solely 
would  be  obviated.  This  danger  is  that  either  too  much  food  is  given  to  the 
cow,  and  so  nausea  and  waste  are  occasioned,  or  the  cow  does  not  get  it  iu 


FEEDING  OF  DAIRY  COWS. 


85 


that  dean  sweet  condition  which  might  be  wished,  while  she  is  also  de- 
ficient in  air  and  exercise ; but,  with  the  treatment  we  have  recommended— 
with  a foddering  of  green  food,  fresh  mown,  with  her  roam  in  the  pasture, 
she  has  all  the  advantages  of  hand-feeding  without  any  of  its  objections* 
She  can  eke  out  her  meal  in  her  pasture;  she  has  it  clean,  and  has  also  plenty 
of  air  and  exercise  ; while  she  can  consult  her  own  will  as  to  the  amount  of 
rest  or  shelter  she  takes,  in  hot  or  rainy  weather. 

So  much  for  summer  management ; in  winter  it  is  quite  another  matter. 
Some  are  pinched  and  starved,  have  the  cold  straw-fold  in  winter,  and  are 
exposed  to  every  blast  of  heaven ; some  have  more  or  less  hay  or  turnips, 
while  others  are  watched  and  tended  with  the  most  assiduous  care.  The 
first  is  the  most  costly  system.  It  is  the  dearest  way  of  all  to  starve  the 
cows,  and  a moderate  degree  of  attention  and  care  is  necessary  to  the  most 
economical  produce  of  the  milk  cow,  whether  it  be  in  milk  or  butter. 
When  the  pastures  begin  to  fail,  it  is  usual  to  turn  the  cow  upon  the  fog  or 
aftermath,  say  in  the  month  of  October, — for  nearly  all  cowkeepers  have  of 
necessity  a quantity  of  grass-land  producing  hay,  and  the  after  eatage  of 
this  land  affords  the  best  possible  food  for  the  milk  cow,  whether  butter  or 
cheese  be  the  object  sought  by  the  dairyman.  When  this  somewhat  fails, 
a little  hand-feeding — a few  turnip  tops,  or  rape,  or  even  a little  bran  mash, 
will  be  well  bestowed;  for  if  the  milk  goes  down  at  this  period  it  is 
j.ever  regained  in  winter  by  any  care  which  can  be  exercised.  If  town 
milk  is  the  object,  a few  brewers7  grains  would  be  the  most  valuable  addi- 
tion to  the  eatage  which  could  be  made.  If  the  weather  should  still  be 
open  and  favorable,  the  pasture,  freed  in  October,  will  have  grown  up  a 
little,  and  will  afford  a very  useful  turn  out  for  the  cow,  for  she  must  usually 
be  housed  at  night,  when  the  fog  is  finished.  In  the  house  she  should  either 
have  hay  and  mangel  wurzel  or  turnips ; or  if  she  has  straw,  should  have 
cooked  linseed,  or  oat,  or  bean  meal  mash.  The  mode  of  cooking  linseed 
we  shall  refer  to  amply  in  the  chapter  on  cattle  feeding,  but  for  small  farm- 
ers without  apparatus,  a very  cheap  and  extempore  mode  may  be  pursued 
without  difficulty.  The  chaff  0‘f  the  barn,  after  winnowing,  may  be  collect- 
ed, as  free  from  dust  as  possible,  or,  if  mixed  with  it,  may  be  sifted  and  laid 
by.  A bushel  of  linseed  may  be  added  to  two  bushels  of  barley  or  oats,  or 
even  wheat,  or  any  other  grain,  grown  in  the  ordinary  way.  This  may  be 
boiled  in  an  ordinary  boiler,  taking  care  to  keep  it  well  stirred  to  prevent 
its  “ setting  on77  at  the  bottom  of  the  boiler.  After  boiling  a quarter  of  an 
hour,  if  this  be  poured  upon  the  chaff  in  the  proportion  of  one  and  a- half  to 
two  pounds  of  the  meal,  and  one  gallon  of  water  to  one  bushel  of  chaff,  one 
of  the  most  useful,  and  certainly  the  cheapest  adjunct  to  milk  cow  and  store 
stock  feeding,  will  be  adopted  which  can  be  conceived.  A great  objection 
to  turnips,  in  large  quantities  at  least,  is  the  flavor  they  give  to  the  milk  and 
the  butter j and  this  is  a difficulty  which  only  can  be  partially  got  over.  It 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


86 

is  surprising,  however,  how  few  turnips  or  roots  will  be  required  if  the 
compound  system  be  adopted,  and  this  quantity  being  so  small,  it  is  easy  to 
vary  them,  giving  potatoes,  carrots,  mangel  wurzel,  &c.,  in  an  ever  changing 
round. 

It  is  a question  whether  hay  need  ever  be  given,  if  the  compound  system 
be  adopted.  If  it  be  not  the  cows  must  have  a liberal  allowance  of  hay. 
In  Norfolk,  oats,  barley,  oi  bean-meal,  is  mixed  with  chopped  hay.  It  is 
questionable,  however,  whether  the  cow  has  not  more  gratification,  and 
hence  more  advantage,  from  selecting  and  masticating  the  hay  alone,  than 
can  be  derived  from  the  cutting  and  mixture  which,  at  least,  is  a costly  and 
laborious  process.  A small  quantity  and  a great  variety  of  food,  will,  on 
the  whole,  produce  the  most  favorable  effect  on  milk  cows. 

Cleanliness  is  one  of  the  greatest  of  all  the  requisites  in  a successful  dairy 
cow-house.  They  must  be  kept  free  from  smells  of  all  kinds,  and  if  they 
are  not  turned  out,  the  house  should  be  frequently  washed,  whitewashed, 
and  the  animals  diligently  rubbed,  and  even  curried.  A thriving  cow  out 
of  doors  is  known  by  her  having  the  marks  of  her  tongue  upon  her  skin.  If 
she  is  not  at  liberty  to  lick  her  own  skin  she  should  at  least  have  it  done  for 
her.  Her  litter  should  be  taken  away  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  and 
fresh  clean  straw  given  in  its  place.  But,  above  all,  she  cannot  have  too 
much  air,  if  the  cold  blast  be  just  shielded  off  Bad  as  exposure  is,  the 
crowding  of  cows  in  close  places  is  ten  times  worse.  There  should  be  free 
currents  of  air.  Ventilators  at  the  top  of  the  cow-house  in  the  louvre  style, 
open  fronts  to  the  south,  capable  of  shutting  up  in  case  of  snow  or  southern 
rain,  and  capacious  ventilators  at  the  bottom  by  grates  or  ventilating  bricks, 
are  indispensable  to  the  health  of  the  cows.  If  these  be  neglected  there  can 
be  no  hope  of  health  in  the  cows  or  success  in  the  dairy. 

The  influence  of  food  on  the  quantity  and  character  of  the  milk,  is  a ques- 
tion on  which  there  has  been  a great  deal  of  speculation.  A very  scientific 
agriculturist,  Mr.  H.  Briggs  of  Overton,  furnished  the  writer  with  an  experi- 
ment showing  that  the  increase  of  milk,  within  certain  limits,  was  almost 
in  the  power  of  the  farmer,  by  an  addition  of  fcean  meal  to  the  ordinary  root 
food  and  hay.  And  though,  as  a general  rule,  milk  may  be  produced  by 
these  costly  and  stimulative  kinds  of  food  at  too  great  an  expense,  yet  it  is  a 
vast  acquisition  in  a particular  season,  or  under  special  ( rcumstances,  to 
know  the  means  of  increasing  the  supply  of  milk  beyond  the  ordinary 
quantity. 

The  researches  of  the  Professors  Thompson  are  well  known.  They  se- 
lected two  Ayrshire  cows,  and  fed  them  with  malt  in  various,  combinations. 
They  found  that  100  lbs.  of  barley,  hay,  and  grass,  produced  8.17  lbs  of  milk, 
and  that  the  same  quantity  of  malt  and  hay  produced  7.95  of  milk ; the 
former  yielding  1.95  lbs.  of  butter,  and  the  letter  1.92.  Now,  though  this 
was  not  at  all  satisfactory  as  to  the  value  or  otherwise  of  malt  for  milk 


FEEDING  OF  DAIRY  COWS. 


87 


owws,  a proposition  never  perhaps  before  seriously  entertained,  still  it  shows 
how  food  may  influence  the  quantity  and  quality  of  the  milk,  for  both  the 
experiments  calculate  the  milk  and  food  as  such, » e.  destitute  of  the  water 
they  naturally  contain. 

Messrs.  Dumas  and  Boussingault  tried  a number  of  very  careful  and  inter- 
esting experiments  on  the  quantity  of  milk  and  its  products  which  would 
be  given  by  cows  fed  on  different  kinds  of  food.  They  tried  nearly  all  the 
combinations  usually  given,  except  perhaps  bean  meal,  and  the  result  was 
that  the  greatest  quantity  of  milk  was  given  when  the  cow  had  green  clover 
in  every  case,  i.  c.,  that  in  each  instance  this  yielded  the  greatest  quantity 
of  butter,  and,  with  one  exception,  the  greatest  produce  also  of  cheese  ; and 
that  exception  was  when  the  cow  had  been  but  one  day  calved,  which  would 
account  for  the  abundance  of  cheesy  matter  in  the  milk.  The  table  is  so 
instructive,  that  we  will  quote  one  or  two  of  the  items  : — 


Food. 

Days  after  calving. 

Milk. 

Butter. 

Cheese. 

Potatoes  and  hay, 

176  .. 

9.3 

. . 4.8  , 

..  3.3 

Hay  and  green  clover,  . 

182  . . 

8.9  . 

. . 4.5  . 

. 4.0 

Green  clover, 

193  . . 

9.8  , 

. . 2.2  . 

. . 4.0 

Clover  in  flower, 

204  . . 

7.8  , 

. . 3.5  , 

. . 3.7 

Potatoes, 

229  . . 

5.0  . 

, . 4.0  . 

. . 3.4 

Turnips, 

207  . . 

6.0  . 

, . 4.2  . 

. 3.0 

Red  beet, 

215  .. 

5.6 

. . 4.0  . 

..  3.4, 

Into  their  philosophical  investigations  and  reasonings  we  shall  not  enter 
Mangel  wurzel,  bean  meal,  and  grains,  much  increase  the  milk.  Good  hay 
and  oat  mash  much  increase  the  butter,  and  turnips,  though  they  give  a dis- 
agreeable flavor,  greatly  increase  both. 

To  keep  the  cow  as  long  as  possible  in  milk  is  sometimes  an  object.  Some 
cows  dry  early, — some  may  be  milked  through,  though  always  with  disad- 
vantage to  both  the  cow  and  her  calf ; both  being  feeble  and  impaired,  if  it 
is  persisted  in.  In  summer  weather,  however,  when  cows  are  very  deep 
milkers,  and  in  high  condition,  it  is  not  only  sometimes  advisable  but  abso- 
lutely necessary.  A cow  not  put  to  the  bull  will  hold  to  her  milk  much 
longer  than  one  which  is  regularly  breeding. 

The  spaying  of  milk  cows  is  adopted  by  the  veterinary  schools  of  France, 
and  a great  deal  is  said  in  its  favor  by  the  Academy  of  Rheims  and  other 
authorities.  A report  on  the  subject  was  furnished  to  that  authority  by  M. 
P.  Charlier,  which  spoke  almost  exclusively  in  its  favor.  The  practice  is  an 
old  one  in  Germany  and  England,  supposed  for  the  purpose  of  increasing  the 
feeding  propensities  of  the  animals,  but  by  no  means  for  the  purpose  to 
which  we  refer,  and  which  mainly  occupies  the  attention  of  the  French 
veterinary  school,  viz.,  1 he  prolonging  of  the  period  of  lactation.  The  report^ 
which  is  very  voluminous,  states  a variety  of  experiments  made  on  cows, 
old  and  young — some  as  far  advanced  as  eighteen  years  in  age ; but,  in  ordei 


88 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


to  realize  all  the  promised  advantages,  the  cow  is  said  to  be  best  from  four 
to  eight  years  of  age.  The  operation  is  performed  on  the  right  side,  and 
does  not  altogether  occupy  more  than  four  to  ten  minutes.  It  is  seldom 
fatal,  unless  the  cow  is  in  calf,  and  in  some  instances  the  cows  are  said  to 
go  and  feed  as  usual,  even  after  the  operation.  The  conclusions  from  the 
report,  endorsed  by  the  reward  of  the  society’s  medal,  were — that  it  in- 
creases the  supply  of  milk  from  the  animal  after  a few  days — that  there  is  a 
steady  return  of  milk  of  the  best  quality — less  liability  to  fall  off  milk,  and 
no  troublesome  tendency  to  desire  the  bull — that  in  eighteen  months  the 
milk  does  not  diminish — that  the  feeding  tendencies  of  the  cow  are  much 
increased,  and  the  quality  of  the  beef  is  improved,  nay,  it  is  further  said,  in 
one  dairy  (the  number  of  cows  is  not  given)  a difference  between  spayed 
and  unspayed  cows  in  milk  was  850  pints  per  annum;  no  great  quantity  if 
it  were  a considerable  dairy,  and  where  possibly  the  best  cows  were  spayed. 
There  is,  w^e  must  confess,  a barbarity  about  this  practice,  needless,  as  we 
believe,  which  makes  our  kinder  feelings  revolt  at  the  operation,  performed 
for  so  small  advantage  after  all,  over  the  gentle,  patient,  harmless  milk  cow. 

REARING  OF  CALVES. 

# This  is  a process  more  or  less  belonging  to  every  dairy-farm.  Though 
every  cow  does  not  annually  produce  a calf,  still  heifers  are  usually  put  to 
the  bull  at  two  years  old,  and  the  period  of  gestation  varies  from  275  to  290 
days,  so  that  the  old  fashioned  mode  of  reckoning  three  months  back  in  the 
almanac,  is  by  no  means  a difficult  W'ay  of  ascertaining  the  date  at  which  a 
cow  put  to  the  bull  may  be  expected  to  calve.  She  is  nearly  three  years  old 
before  she  produces  her  first  calf.  Too  often  no  pains  nor  skill  is  used  in  se- 
lecting a male  animal.  A neighbor  has  a bull,  and  that  is  enough.  A farmer 
may  have  no  opinion  of  the  neighbor’s  skill  or  judgment.  He  asks  nothing 
about  the  breed  or  the  blood.  He  may  see  him,  or  he  may  not.  It  is  no 
wronder  that  such  brutes  of  animals  are  produced.  Encouragement  is  given 
to  a careless  indolent  selection  of  male  animals,  and  bad  breeds  of  cattle  are 
extended  and  perpetuated.  • 

Five  or  six  wreeks  after  calving,  the  cow  will  again  be  disposed  to  take  the 
bull ; but  it  does  not  happen  that  she  alw’ays  holds,  and,  if  the  month  of 
June  passes  before  she  is  bulled,  she  calves  at  a period  of  far  less  value  to 
the  breeder.  In  some  cases  a tithe  only  of  the  dairyman’s  cow's  are  in  calf. 
He  loses  both  produce  and  milk ; for,  whether  in  calf  or  excitement  every 
twenty-one  days,  it  produces  a most  unfavorable  influence  on  the  milk  of  the 
cow7  and  that  of  her  companions.  There  are  a variety  of  remedies  suggested 
for  this  sad  defect.  Bleeding,  confinement,  and  abstinence,  at  the  period  of 
bulling,  and  omitting  to  carry  the  animal  to  the  bull  for  one  return  of  the 
affection,  are  amongst  the  most  likely  resources  of  the  breeder.  Some  adopt 


REARING  OF  CALVES. 


89 


the  plan  of  throwing  a pailful  of  cold  water  over  the  loins  after  the  cow  has 
been  served,  which  it  is  alleged,  gives  contractability  and  tone  to  the  system. 
It  can  do  no  harm ; sometimes  a change  of  bull  is  advantageous ; it  is  also 
desirable  to  send  them  in  the  morning  before  milking. 

But  sometimes  the  reverse  is  the  case.  The  cow  refuses  to  come  in  season. 
For  this  a variety  of  panaceas  are  proposed,  the  most  reasonable  of  which  is 
the  giving  the  animal  a quart  of  the  milk  of  a cow  in  season.  At  the  three 
weeks’  end  ?./ter  this  it  is  alleged  she  will  take  the  bull,  and  a second  return 
will  be  a fruitful  conception.  We  state  it  as  an  axiom  of  old  dairymen, — it 
deserves  record  as  an  opinion,  for  we  never  saw  it  in  print,  and  so  we  leave  it. 

To  bring  up  a calf  for  the  butcher  is  the  easiest  thing  possible.  They  have 
only  to  suck  the  mother  for  the  requisite  number  of  weeks,  till  they  are  of 
size  and  fatness  required  by  the  taste  of  the  consumer,  or  the  judgment  of  the 
buyer.  But  to  rear  calves  for  store  purposes  is  a different  matter.  Breeding 
farmers  have  to  bring  up  perhaps  eight  or  ten  calves,  with  only  four  cows. 
They  buy  them  in  the  market,  they  must  necessarily  grow’  them  on  artificial 
food,  and  it  is  their  business  to  produce  them  in  a favorable  state  for  growth 
and  maturity,  on  such  substitutes  for  milk  as  shall  be  the  least  expensive 
and  most  efficient.  Their  own  calves  are  easier  brought  up. 

The  materials  usually  employed  are  new  milk,  skimmed  milk,  meal-por- 
ridge, linseed-tea,  and,  for  solid  food,  hay,  grass,  turnips,  meal,  potatoes,  man- 
gel wurzel,  &c.  &c.  Some  breeders,  whose  object  is  the  calf,  and  the  calf 
alone,  sacrifice  every  other  consideration  to  it.  The  breeders  of  short-horns, 
whose  early  maturity  require  a corresponding  early  supply  of  nutritious  food, 
generally  apply  nature’s  own  provision,  and  allow  the  calves  to  suck  either 
their  mother  or  some  other  dam,  or  in  some  cases  more  than  one,  in  order 
that  they  may  develope  their  precocious  and  distinctive  qualities ; and  they 
often  continue  this  for  several  months — as  many  as  six  to  twelve.  Haidlen 
gives  the.  ash  of  milk  in  1000  lbs. — phosphates,  4.55;  chloride  of  potassium, 
1.83  ; chloride  of  sodium,  0.34;  and  free  soda,  0.45.  We  have  no  analysis 
of  the  nitrogen  in  milk ; but  Schlossbuger  determined  the  nitrogen  in  cheese 
to  be  as  much  as  upwards  of  7 per  cent,  in  some  specimens ; and  hence  we 
may  infer  it  is  an  important  element  in  the  milk. 

This  is,  however,  an  expensive  mode  of  feeding  for  those  who  rear  only 
ordinary  cattle  for  the  market ; and  some  are  so  “ stingy,”  that  as  soon 
as  the  cow  ceases  to  give  “ beastings,”  they  begin  to  give  the  calves 
skimmed  milk.  A process  of  this  kind  does  irreparable  injury  to  the  young 
animal. 

The  best  mode,  in  ordinary  calves,  is  to  give  new  milk  for  at  least  four- 
teen days  after  the  calving.  There  are  two  modes  of  doing  this:  either 
allowing  them  to  suck  the  dam,  or  removing  them  as  soon  as  calved,  and 
training  them  to  drink  in  the  first  instance.  For  ourselves,  we  think  the 
taking  away  the  calf  both  cruel  and  unnatural.  The  healthiness  of  the  mo- 


90 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


ther,  we  consider,  depends  upon  it.  After  calving,  it  is  only  necessary  to  see 
the  anxiety  and  care  for  her  offspring,  which  makes  her  forget  all  her  pain,  and 
diverts  her  attention  from  her  sufferings ; whereas,  if  you  subject  her  to  the 
gloomy  excitement  of  losing  it,  it  is  no  wonder  that  milk  fever  and  inflam- 
mation so  often  supervene.  We  invariably  allow  the  presence  of  the  calf  for 
at  least  a fortnight.  We  allow  the  mother  to  lick  over  the  whole  of  her  off- 
spring ; and  we  think  that  a privation  of  this  medicine  of  nature  is  a cause 
of  many  a valuable  animal  being  lost.  After  the  first  fourteen  days,  we 
mix  one  half  new  and  one  half  skimmed  milk  for  fourteen  days  more ; this 
skimmed  milk  is  scalded  nearly  to  the  boiling  point,  set  aside  to  cool,  and 
given  to  the  animal.  One  great  secret  in  the  successful  rearing  of  calves  is 
to  give  them  frequently  small  quantities  of  food  at  a time.  For  the  first 
fortnight,  it  ought  to  be  fed,  at  the  very  least,  four  times  per  day  ; and  about 
a quart  at  a time  will  be  necessary,  to  be  increased  afterwards  as  the  animaPs 
wants  may  require  it.  Soon  after  this  the  skim-milk  time  commences,  when 
the  animal,  if  properly  trained,  will  begin  to  eat  the  solid  food. 

Teaching  them  to  eat  is  a less  difficult  matter  than  that  of  training  them  to 
drink.  Nature  presents  to  them,  first  a sucking  and  then  a drinking  process , 
and,  in  general,  in  training  them  to  drink  it  is  necessary  to  use  the  fin 
ger,  and  introduce  this  into  the  mouth,  plunging  the  whole  into  the  milk , 
the  calf  sucks  the  finger,  and  thus  imbibes  the  milk.  By  and  by  the  finger 
is  withdrawn,  and  the  calf  drinks  alone  and  unassisted.  The  eating  process 
is  somewhat  differently  taught.  A piece  of  fine  hay  is  tied  together  with  a 
string,  and  suspended  in  the  calf-crib ; the  calf  begins  to  suck  this  bunch  of 
hay,  and  part  of  it  coming  out  from  the  string,  the  calf  is  gradually  taught 
to  eat. 

Some  parties  tie  up  the  calves  by  the  neck  in  stalls  and  other  places ; 
others  keep  them  loose  in  houses.  We  prefer  the  latter  course.  The  exer- 
cise the  animals  take  is  beneficial  to  their  health ; and,  on  the  whole,  we 
much  prefer  this  partial  freedom. 

The  supply  of  milk,  however,  is  on  most  farms  limited.  If  the  farm  is 
not  confined  to  dairying  purposes,  4he  milk  cannot  be  spared  ; and,  if  new 
milk  cheese  is  made,  it  is  equally  in  request.  Hence  substitutes  for  milk 
have  necessarily  to  be  adopted.  Hay-tea  is  one  of  the  substitutes  some- 
times used  for  milk.  We  think  it  is  generally  a poor  one.  If  it  has  been 
made  from  hay  grown  on  very  rich  alluvial  soils,  so  much  the  better ; but 
there  is  every  probability  that  the  bitter  extract,  may,  with  the  color,  de- 
ceive, and  lead  to  the  belief  that  it  is  more  nutritious  than  it  really  is.  Taking 
good  meadow  hay,  and  deducting  44  per  cent,  for  woody  fiber,  the  saline 
matter,  which  varies  from  5 to  10  per  cent.,  most  of  it  being  held  by  the  or- 
ganization of  the  plant,  leaves  about  50  per  cent,  of  starch,  sugar,  gum,  glu- 
ten, albumen,  legumin,  and  fatty  matter  remaining  in  the  tea.  Many  persons 
make  a point  of  boiling  the  hay ; but  we  are  not  certain  that  there  are  any 


REARING  OF  CALVE8. 


91 


?reat  advantages  in  the  practice.  Mr.  Parkinson’s  plan  is  about  the  best  we 
ire  acquainted  with.  His  tea  is  made  by  placing  in  a tub  a quantity  of 
l[Ood  hay, — such  as  has  a sweat  in  the  stack,  is  of  a brownish  color,  and  feels 
-lammy  like  tobacco, — pouring  boiling  water  upon  it,  and  covering  it  up  to 
keep  in  the  steam.  This  decoction  ought  to  be  prepared  twelve  hours  be- 
fore using  it;  when  the  milk,  being  boiled,  should  be  added  till  the  mixture 
is  reduced  to  a proper  heat. 

We  believe  that  food  for  calves  may  be  prepared  of  a much  more  nutritious 
nature,  and  much  more  likely  to  be  of  advantage  to  the  producers  ; some  of 
these,  on  which  we  have  successfully  reared  calves  for  several  years,  we 
shall  place  before  the  reader : — 

1 . Wheatmeal  Porridge. — This  is  made  in  the  following  manner : Boil  two 
gallons  of  water,  and  mix  a pint  of  fine  flower  with  cold  water,  sufficient  to 
make  it  into  the  consistency  of  a thick  cream.  This  should  be  thoroughly 
mixed,  and  put  into  a bowl  capable  of  holding  half  a gallon ; a small  quantity 
of  the  hot  water  is  added  to  the  mixture,  and  stirred  so  as  gradually  to 
raise  the  temperature  of  the  flower  and  water  in  the  bowl,  and  prevent  it 
from  running  into  lumps.  This  is  plunged  into  boiling  water,  and  stirred 
until  the  whole  boils  again.  This  coagulates  the  mass,  and  forms  a thick  nu- 
tritious porridge  It  is  a great  improvement  to  the  mixture  if  one-sixth 
part  of  old  skimmed  milk  is  mixed  with  it ; which  not  only  gets  scalded  it- 
self, but  very  materially  improves  it.  Two  gallons  of  the  mixture  per  day 
will  be  found  sufficient. 

2.  Linseed  Jelly , combined  with  the  milk,  is  a very  valuable  auxiliary. 
We  ourselves  have  scarcely  tried  the  seed  by  itself  sufficiently  to  be  able  to 
give  a very  decided  opinion  upon  it ; and  we  much  prefer  the  pressed  seed, 
in  the  shape  of  cake,  crushed  to  a powder ; and,  for  this  reason,  if  we  wanted 
to  lay  on  the  fat,  we  should  give  them  the  crushed  seed,  because  its  fatty 
matter  would,  when  cooked,  be  easily  assimilated  into  animal  fat ; but  when 
bone  and  muscle  are  to  be  formed,  every  pound  of  fattening  matter  in  the 
food  displaces  other  substances  calculated  to  build  up  the  animal  structure ; 
for  this  reason  we  most  approve  of  the  jelly  produced  by  the  crushed  cake. 
The  proportions  of  the  crushed  cake  to  the  water  should  be  as  follows : — to 
two  gallons  of  water  take  two  pounds  of  oil-cake  bruised  or  crushed  nearly 
to  a powder,  sprinkle  it  in  the  water,  stir,  and  allow  it  to  boil  ten  minutes. 
Cool  with  skim-milk,  if  convenient.  A rich  jelly-like  mass,  of  the  most 
nourishing  kind,  is  produced,  which  should  be  given  in  a lukewarm  state. 

3.  Broth  Porridge. — This  is  a somewhat  unnatural  mixture ; but  it  is  often 
used  very  successfully,  combined  with  other  mixtures,  for  feeding  calves. 
The  water  in  which  bacon  has  been  boiled  is  carefully  preserved,  and  diluted 
wiih  perhaps  one-half  of  its  quantity  in  water.  It  may  be  expected  that  a 
substance  like  bacon,  from  which  nitrogenized  and  phosphoric  matter  may 
be  expected  to  be  dissolved  by  the  action  of  boiling,  will  be  of  use ; but,  to 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


32 


make  it  alimentary,  it  if  necessary  to  mix  it  with  a considerable  proportion 
of  milk.  However  unnatural  this  mixture  may  appear;  how  contrary 
soever  to  all  theories  of  natural  history  it  may  be  to  give  carnivorous  matter 
to  herbivorous  animals,  we  may  find  in  it  an  analogy  by  no  means  unimpor- 
tant, in  the  disposition  evinced  by  mature  animals  of  this  description  to 
select  and  chew,  for  hours  together,  a piece  of  bone,  which  they  will  search 
for  with  instinctive  pertinacity,  and  relinquish  with  reluctance.  Is  it  not  be- 
cause she  finds  in  it  the  nitrogen  or  the  phosphates  denied  her  in  the  food 
upon  which  she  is  confined  ? And  if  this  be  so — if  she  is  guided  by  her  in- 
stinct to  select  and  choose  animal  matter,  why  may  not  a decoction  of  animal 
substance  be  useful  to  the  calves,  in  their  younger  stages,  as  an  auxiliary,  and, 
to  a certain  extent,  a substitute  for  the  beverage  which  nature  has  given 
them,  but  which  man  denies  them. 

Solid  food  for  calves  will  soon,  however,  displace  much  of  the  liquid.  At 
five  or  six  weeks  old  they  ought  to  be  trained  to  eat  sliced  roots.  To  do  this 
it  is  only  necessary  to  supply  them  in  convenient  forms  in  a trough  within 
their  reach.  Their  moments  of  leisure  will  be  employed  in  playing  with 
and  sucking  these  pieces,  until  they  begin  to  masticate  them.  The  roots 
should,  for  this  purpose,  be  cut  into  oblong  pieces,  one  inch  broad,  half  an 
inch  deep,  and  two  inches  long  • these  shapes  are  better  than  either  slices  or 
squares,  being  more  adapted  to  their  conformation,  and  better  calculated  to 
make  them  learn  to  eat  of  their  own  accord.  Calves  should  be  reared  from 
the  months  of  September  to  March.  We  do  not  approve  of  late-bred  calves ; 
if  they  are  reared  late,  they  become  tender  and  require  nursing  the  follow- 
ing winter.  In  the  months  we  have  named,  however,  turnips  are  always 
plentiful ; or,  if  mangel-wurzel  is  cultivated,  it  will  be  found  a very 
successful  substitute  ; although  we  prefer  Swedes.  These  appear  not  only 
to  agree  with  the  palate  of  the  animal  and  to  make  it  thrive,  but  they  ex- 
ercise a very  beneficial  influence  on  its  subsequent  development.  Is  it  be- 
cause they  contain  a large  share  of  the  phosphates  ? Sprengel  makes  the 
relative  proportions  of  the  phosphates  in  the  Swede  to  be  nearly  six  times 
as  great  as  in  the  common  turnips,  and  sulphate  ten  times. 


Phos.  acid. 

Common  turnips  . 73 

Swedes  . . 408 


Sulph.  acid. 

890  | Per  1000  lbs- 


Other  auxiliaries  are  sometimes  adopted,  such  as  bean-meal,  pea-meal, 
oat-meal,  cattle  sago,  and  Indian  meal ; all  these  being  very  material  aids  in 
rearing  calves.  It  not  unfrequently  happens,  however,  that  some  peculiar 
root  or  grain  may  be  purchased  at  a much  cheaper  rate  than  any  product  of 
the  farm  can  be  grown. 

The  degree  of  confinement  to  which  a young  and  growing  animal  ought  to 
be  subjected,  is  an  important  question.  For  a Highland  Kyloe,  to  be  much 
confined,  would  be  to  give  him  disease.  But  a short-horn  will  bear  confine- 


REARING  OF  CALVES. 


93 


ment,  and  thrive  better  with  it  than  with  excessive  liberty.  We  do  not  ap- 
prove of  tying  an  animal  constantly  by  the  head  when  very  young.  It  op- 
poses natural,  healthy  exercise,  and  renders  the  animal  unfit  for  the  purposes 
of  life.  The  writer,  who  has  fattened  animals  at  eighteen  months  and  two 
years  old,  which  are  necessarily  very  much  confined,  has  had  young  animals 
whose  supple  bone  was  not  able  to  carry  the  heavy  body,  so  that  their 
legs  have  literally  broken  in  getting  them  away  to  the  slaughter-house. 
But  perfect  confinement  in  the  case  of  calves  is  much  worse.  It  prevents 
their  growth  and  healthy  development,  and  is  the  parent  of  many  diseases. 

Nor  should  cleanliness  be  neglected  in  the  food,  in  the  litter,  and,  above  all, 
in  the  calf  itself.  If  too  hot  food  is  given,  the  calf  will  be  surfeited,  and  lose 
its  health  and  hair  ; if  too  cold,  it  will  be  starved,  and  liable  to  disease  ; if 
sour,  it  will  scour ; and  if  strongly  fermenting  dung  be  allowed  to  accumu- 
late where  it  is  kept,  it  will,  ten  to  one,  become  disordered  in  its  bowels,  a 
disease  which,  when  once  begun,  will  go  through  the  whole  pen  of  calves, 
unless  the  one  attacked  is  at  once  removed.  In  this  case  whitewashing  of 
the  house  and  stall  will  be  necessary  daily,  and  plenty  of  fresh  air  should  be 
afforded. 

To  avoid  all  the  dangers,  loose  confinement  in  stalls,  with  the  front  fasten- 
ed up,  which  enables  them  to  walk  about,  without  escaping,  and  allows 
them  company,  without  actual  contact,  is  by  far  the  best.  The  open  cause- 
way before  the  stalls  will  afford  them  plenty  of  air  and  light,  while  their 
constant  trampling  will  keep  the  manure  beneath  them  from  fermenting. 
They  will  then  only  require  to  be  well  littered ; for  it  will  too  much  expose 
them  to  be  too  frequently  cleaned  out  in  winter.  They  will  have  at  all 
times  a warm  bed  below,  vrith  plenty  of  air  above,  and  the  litter  will  be  so 
consolidated,  that  it  will  never  putrify  so  as  to  be  either  objectionable  or  in- 
convenient. 

In  feeding  stock  the  worst  of  all  policies  is  to  stint  the  calf  of  food  in  its 
early  stages.  That  calf  may  be  said  to  be  always  fat,  which  never  looses 
its  first  layer  of  fat ; and  as  the  difference  is  often  a question  in  after-fatten- 
ing, of  some  six  months’  keep,  there  can  be  no  question  that  it  is  of  the 
greatest  importance  to  keep  it  well  at  first. 

To  give  the  calf  food  easy  of  digestion,  and  suited  to  its  feeble  stomach  in 
early  life — to  allow  it  especially  its  mother’s  milk — the  beestings — and  the 
soothing  influence  of  its  mother’s  tongue — to  wean  it  from  new  milk  slowly 
and  gradually  and  cautiously,  and  with  a plentiful  allowance  of  good  sweet 
hay,  are  the  real  elements  of  success  in  calf  breeding ; and  this,  with  proper 
attention  to  air,  warmth,  exercise,  and  cleanliness,  are  all  that  is  required  in 
the  proper  management  of  young  calves. 


94 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CATTLE-FEEDING. 

It  might  be  supposed  that  in  a pastural  country  like  this,  when  fat  has 
ceased  to  be  a luxury  at  the  tables  of  the  great,  and  has  become  a necessary 
of  life  to  the  mass  of  the  population,  that  all  the  modes  of  fattening  cattle 
would  be  so  well  known,  that  a tyro  might  be  able  to  describe  them.  But 
they  are  only  beginning  to  be  investigated  in  their  main  element.  Every- 
body knows  that  rich  alluvial  pasturage,  that  linseed  cake  and  Swede  tur- 
nips, that  combinations  of  hay  and  bean-meal,  and  ground  corn,  with  a dozen 
kinds  of  roots,  will  feed  cattle  sooner  or  later.  But  the  question  now  is  sim- 
ply one  of  economy — How  can  the  largest  number  of  pounds  of  beef  be  produced 
at  the  least  possible  cost  ? This  is  the  real  question  still  unsettled,  and  on  this 
we  will  proceed  to  show  the  present  extent  of  our  knowledge. 

First,  the  grazier  must  select  such  animals  as  will  lay  on  fat  rapidly ; 
and,  by  a physiological  law,  as  we  have  seen,  there  are  those  which  will 
soonest  attain  maturity  so  as  to  be  fit  for  feeding.  We  stop  not  now  to  ex- 
amine whether  or  not  the  two  principles  of  taking  on  fat  early  as  well  as 
rapidly  are  necessarily  connected — though  it  is  very  probable  they  are — and 
that  a tendency  to  lay  on  fat  will  show  itself  at  a very  early  period  of  the 
animal’s  history ; though  it  may  possibly  be  a mere  result  of  the  breeder’s 
skill  to  obtain  the  two  qualities  combined. 

Now,  every  good  grazier  knows  an  animal  which  will  thrive , that  being  a 
simple  matter  of  judgment.  A skillful  man  will  select  out  of  a drove,  five, 
or  ten,  or  twenty  animals,  and  nineteen  of  the  twenty  will  be  the  best  graz- 
iers for  his  particular  farm.  The  eye  guides  him  partially — the  6igus  we 
have  described  in  our  chapter  on  the  breeds  of  cattle  also— but  more  than 
all,  he  is  directed  by  the  touch. 

Having  selected  the  animal,  the  mode  of  feeding  him  is  to  turn  him  out 
into  a grass  field  skirting  a river — if  such  be  within  the  grazier’s  power — 
where  alluvium  of  ages  has  been  washed  into  the  soil  so  deep  that  the  roots 
of  the  herbage  cannot  find  its  bottom,  and  so  firmly  comminuted  as  to  admit 
of  the  minutest  filaments  of  the  radicles  of  the  plants  to  penetrate  it  with  fa- 
cility, so  porous  as  to  admit  the  air  to  enter,  and  the  water  to  filter  gently 
through,  and  containing  its  elements  in  a state  of  solution  so  delicate  that 
they  are  ready  for  food  to  the  plants  which  consume  them  ; but  last,  though 
of  greater  importance  than  all,  having  the  elements  of  vegetation  in  plentiful 
abundance.  Now  all  men  know  that  on  such  a soil,  in  five,  six,  or  even  in 
four  months,  a lean  animal  will  become  fat.  He  has  all  he  requires,  a little 
attention  to  that  he  is  well  is  all  that  is  needed,  from  the  time  of  his  be- 
ing placed  i : the  pasture  to  being  taken  out  to  the  butcher.  There  is  nei- 


cattle  Deeding. 


95 


ther  labor,  nor  pains,  nor  expense  incumd.  He  is  worth  five  pounds  more 
when  he  is  taken  out  than  when  he  was  put  in,  and  that  is  all  the  grazier 
knows  or  cares  for.  Now,  we  shall  find  out  the  requisites  here  for  feeding, 
strictly  laid  down.  There  is  plenty  of  fresh  and  highly  nutritive  food ; 
there  is  scarcely  any  labor  in  searching  for  and  obtaining  it ; with  water, 
and  shelter,  and  warmth ; and  also,  plenty  of  air,  and  freedom  from  con- 
straint. 

Now,  this  is  what  the  feeder  must  aim  at  in  his  winter-fed  cattle.  They 
cannot  feed  in  the  open  air ; the  cold  and  wet  would  deprive  him  of  the 
flesh  as  fast  as  the  food  laid  it  on.  Here  he  must  provide  shelter.  Now,  one 
of  the  controversies  of  cattle  feeding  in  winter  is,  which  is  the  best  mode  of 
providing  this.  The  Scotch -farmer  loudly  contends  for  full  and  perfect  lib- 
erty to  the  animal.  If  he  is  too  warm  he  will  sweat,  and  if  too  closely  con- 
fined he  will  fret  and  murmur ; and  he  declares  that  practice  has  decided 
that  they  should  be  fatted  in  open  places  ; a sheltered  shed  they  may  have, 
but  nothing  beyond  it.  The  midland  counties  man  says  this  exposure  is 
dreadful.  It  wastes  their  beef,  and  renders  them  subject  to  disease,  and  in- 
volves long  feeding.  Another  class  again  insist  on  the  tying  up  of  the  ani- 
mals as  injurious  to  their  health ; that  a little  exercise,  but  absolute  confine- 
ment, are  equally  necessary ; and  that  they  should  have  shelter  with  free- 
dom : these  two  classes  are  controverting  the  merits  of  box  and  stall  feeding. 

And  both  of  them  are  right.  Take  a Highland  Scot,  consider  his  wild 
habits,  his  long  stray  of  mountain  and  glen,  his  wide-spread  pasture  of  peat 
and  heather,  from  which  he  could  in  his  native  fastness  smell  afar  off  his 
friend  or  his  enemy  man  ! Tie  him  by  the  head  and  he  becomes  fretful  or 
furious;  he  will  pine,  and  fret,  and  worry  himself;  while  in  his  gregarious 
state,  with  a herd  of  his  fellows  in  open  yards,  or  sheds,  he  will  thrive. 
Nay,  he  has  a nature  which  will  lay  on  fat  despite  the  cold  and  wet,  as  the 
rye  among  plants  can  assimilate  food  from  the  barrenest  soil ; so  he  has  a 
natural  shelter  in  his  hair  and  constitution,  for  which  the  owner  of  more 
delicate  and  tender  animals  will  not  give  him  credit,  forgetting  that  the 
Scotchman  has  a different  animal  to  deal  with  in  his  shed-feeding  from  the 
short-horn. 

The  short-horn  feeder,  on  the  contrary,  possesses  a tame,  quiet,  gentle, 
lethargic  animal,  which  shows  that  universal  mark  of  good  breeding  in  men 
and  animals,  he  is  always  quiet.  He  will  neither  pine  at  never  beholding 
the  light,  nor  feel  the  want  of  exercise  if  he  never  leaves  his  stall,  provided 
he  has  food  and  comfort  in  plenty.  Nay,  he  will  hardly  take  the  exercise 
necessary  to  keep  his  limbs  in  healthy  action.  But  keep  him  from  the  cold 
and  wet,  prevent  the  blast  from  passing  over  him ; he  likes  protection,  and 
thrives  best  in  boxes. 

Take  a Devon,  or,  if  you  like,  a Sussex  ox.  He  is  large  and  cumbrous  ; 
but  he  is  active.  Give  him  liberty,  and  he  will  roam  and  harass  himself ; 


96 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


but  he  is  tame  enough  to  keep  to  his  stall  without  pain  or  fretting.  He  re- 
quires a stall. 

The  temperature  at  which  it  is  desirable  to  keep  feeding  animals,  is  a mat- 
ter of  more  importance  than  might  be  inferred  from  the  apparently  small 
amount  of  investigation  bestowed  upon  it.  The  question  is,  are  we  to  run 
the  risk  of  a wasting  expenditure  of  food  by  perspiration  under  excessive 
heat, — or  are  we  to  induce  them  to  waste  it,  to  keep  up  animal  heat,  by  ex- 
posure to  too  much  cold?  Nay, will  not  different  classes  of  feeding  animals 
be  subject  to  different  consequences,  from  the  same  degree  of  heat  ? — In  the 
same  cow-house  there  may  be  some  too  hot  and  others  too  cold,  from  their 
different  constitutions.  Oxen  generally  sweat  at  a temperature  in  which 
heifers  thrive  admirably;  this  happens  at  any  rate  till  Christmas,  after 
which  they  seem  to  be  able  to  bear  the  same  degree  of  heat  as  female  ani- 
mals. 

H.  S.  Thompson,  Esq.,  to  whose  indefatigable  and  well  directed  efforts  we 
have  before  alluded,  tied  up  two  sets  of  feeding  bullocks, — eight  into  a war- 
mer shed  than  the  rest.  They  had  the  same  quantity  and  kind  of  food  ; but 
those  in  the  warmer  shed  made  more  beef  than  those  in  the  colder,  showing 
that  warm  air,  as  well  as  warm  food,  were  highly  favorable  to  fattening 
short-horns  ; which  breed,  we  believe,  he  invariably  fattens.  The  tempera- 
ture he  aims  at  is  about  55°  to  60°  of  Fahrenheit ; an  increase  of  this,  caused 
them  to  get  off  their  food,  and  lose  their  tone  and  appetite. 

Stillness , with  the  limitations  given  in  our  remarks  on  shelter,  is  neces 
sary  to  successful  feeding.  This  is  well  known  to  geese  feeders,  who  even 
nail  them  to  the  boards  ; and  it  was  shown  very  strikingly  by  Mr.  Childers, 
M.P.,  in  his  experiments  on  shed-feeding,  and  by  Lord  Bathurst,  on  stall- 
feeding  sheep.  An  animal  in  the  very  effort  of  searching  and  securing  his 
food,  expends  the  principle  necessary  to  make  fat ; hence  it  is  necessary 
that  his  turnips  be  brought  to  him  instead  of  driving  him  to  the  turnips. 
They  are  cut  and  placed  before  him,  that  he  may  have  as  little  effort  as  pos- 
sible in  the  operation  of  chewing,  and  he  has  ample  allowance  of  room,  so 
that  when  he  has  fed,  he  may  lie  down  and  sleep. 

It  is  a question  whether  animals  feed  fastest  in  the  dark  or  not.  There 
can  be  no  doubt  whatever  that  any  thing  which  distracts  their  attention, 
which  excites  action,  or  which  produces  nervous  irritation,  is  opposed  to 
fattening ; and,  as  darkness  will  induce  sleep,  inaction,  and  promote  quiet- 
ness, it  is  so  far  favorable ; but  it  is  not  so  easy  to  have  darkness  and  suffi- 
ciency of  fresh  air  at  the  same  time,  and  therefore  the  best  possible  state, 
perhaps,  is  to  have  the  feeding-houses  rather  in  a state  of  shady  gloom  than 
in  absolute  darkness.  A certain  amount  of  nervous  energy  is  necessary  to 
give  tone  to  the  vital  powers,  and,  beyond  this,  repose  and  quietness  are 
easily  attained  by  a simple  gloom,  while  shelter  from  flies  and  heat  in  sum- 


CATTLE  FEEDING. 


97 


mer,  and  from  blasts,  wet,  and  extreme  cold  in  winter,  she  aid  be  carefully 
provided. 

Abundance  of  good  food,  and  regularity  of feeding , are  essentials  in  all  kinds 
of  fattening.  Though  it  is  not  desirable  to  allow  the  animals  to  have  food 
standing  before  them  when  they  are  filled,  they  should  never,  on  the  other 
hand,  experience  a single  feeling  of  want.  The  usual  hours  of  feeding  should 
be  strictly  adhered  to,  for  the  two-fold  purpose  of  inducing  regular  periods 
of  sleep  and  for  supplying  the  system  with  food  at  the  first  call  of  appetite. 

Variety  of  food  is  a most  essential  element  of  rapid  fattening  ; and  it  is 
not  far  from  the  truth  to  say  that  all  kinds  of  food  are  equally  fattening,  if 
they  are  given  in  sufficient  variety.  If  roots,  grain  and  hay  be  changed 
every  few  days,  the  appetite  is  never  cloyed  ; and  the  whole  are  devoured 
with  a relish  which  develops  fat  in  the  most  rapid  manner. 

The  formation  of  fat  is  the  work  of  the  grazier.  His  animals  are  gen- 
erally full  grown,  or  nearly  so,  and,  though  there  may  be  a small  increase 
of  muscle,  still  the  bulk  of  the  material  of  increased  weight  is  fat  and  not 
flesh.  In  this  country,  food  to  be  palatable — to  be  consumable — must  be 
fat : unless  it  has  this  recommendation  it  is  absolutely  unsaleable.  The 
appetites  of  the  higher  and  the  necessities  of  the  lower  class,  urge  on  the 
demand  for  fatted  beef,  mutton  and  pork  ; and  any  brought  to  market  in 
a state  other  than  fat,  is  looked  upon  as  carrion.  Hence  the  grazier  must 
supply  the  whole  of  his  animals  in  a fat  state  to  the  consumer ; and  there- 
fore it  is  not  the  number  of  animals,  nor  their  weight  he  has  to  con- 
sider, but  he  has  to  provide  for  them  the  means  of  fattening  before  they 
can  be  brought  to  the  consumer. 

The  saccharine  matter  of  vegetables,  and  their  starch,  will  supply  the 
means  of  fuel-food  ; the  fatty  matter  will  produce  ready-formed  fat  to  de- 
posit ; and  the  albuminous  matter  will  afford  the  flesh  which  waste  is  con- 
tinually throwing  into  the  excretory  system,  and  for  the  small  additions 
which  may  be  necessary  to  the  muscles,  to  carry  the  requisite  amount  of  fat. 

It  is  not  our  intention  to  enter  into  the  dispute  between  two  great  schools 
of  physiologists,  as  to  whether  the  fat  was  formed  by  transmutation  of  the 
sugar  and  starch  of  the  food,  or  whether  it  consisted  of  the  ready  formed 
fat  of  the  food  on  which  the  animals  fed.  Without  for  one  moment  pretend- 
ing to  settle  this  point,  it  is  at  any  rate  desirable  so  far  to  supply  both  sac- 
charine and  fatty  matters,  as  shall  give  the  system  the  choice  of  selection. 

Preparation  of  food  for  the  animal’s  stomach,  or  a system  of  cooking,  is 
a very  important  question.  Steaming  hay,  potatoes  and  turnips,  has  been 
tried  very  carefully  in  Scotland,  and  failed.  For  cattle , at  least,  it  is  use- 
less; how  valuable  soever  it  may  be  for  pigs.  It  is  pretty  certain,  how- 
ever, that,  with  certain  combinations,  all  that  a feeder  can  desire  is  attain- 
ed by  the  cooking  of  flax-seed. 

The  fat  of  animals  is  strictly  analogous  to  vegetable  oil  5 its  elements 

5 


98 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


arc  much  of  the  same  character  as  sugar,  starch  and  gum,  and  no  doubt  13 
entertained,  by  physiologists  and  chemists,  that  the  fatty  matter  (vegeta- 
ble oil)  iu  plants,  is  assimilated  into  animal  fat,  with  but  little  change. 
The  elements  of  those  compounds  severally  are : — 

Animal  fat 

Sugar.  Starch.  Gum.  Mucilage.  (stearine.) 


Carbon 12  ....  12  ....  12  ....  24  ....  71 

Hydrogen 11  ....  10  ....  10  ....  *9  ....  69 

Oxygen 11  ....  10  ....  10  ....  19  ....  7 


The  oil  contained  in  many  seeds  is  given  by  Professor  J ohnston  — 


Flax-seed . . 
Hemp-seed 
Rape-seed 


Oil  per  cent. 

.11  to  22  say  17  White  mustard 
.14  “ 25  “ 19  Sweet  almond 
,40  ’*  70  “ 55  Bitter  do. 


Oil  per  cent. 

. 36  to  38  say  37 
.40  “ 54  “ 47 
28  “ 46  “ 37 


This  would  naturally  indicate  that  any  of  these  seeds  would,  so  far  as 
they  were  palatable,  be  useful ; and  when  linseed  contains  as  much  as  seven 
per  cent,  of  mucilage,  ten  per  cent,  of  sugar,  and  fifteen  of  soluble  albu- 
men, it  is  clearly  indicated  as  being  a seed  most  valuable  for  feeding  and 
nourishing  purposes. 

Various  attempts  have  been  made  to  adapt  it  to  the  feeding  of  cattle. 
There  was  some  difficulty  in  grinding  it  by  ordinary  mills,  as  it  clogged  up 
the  teeth ; and  when  given  to  animals  either  alone,  or  combined  with  con- 
siderable quantities  of  corn,  meal,  or  other  feeding  matter,  the  effect  on 
the  animals  was  purgative,  and  but  few  breeders  persevered  in  the  use  of 
the  seed  alone.  The  demand  for  the  oil,  however,  induced  the  crushing  of 
the  seeds  to  obtain  it,  and  the  refuse  left  was  found  to  be  very  valuable  as 
feeding  material ; while  the  portability  of  oil  cake,  its  cleanliness,  and 
capability  of  being  long  kept,  made  it  a general  and  desirable  food,  both 
for  growing  and  feeding  stock.  The  oil  abstracted,  the  cake  contains,  ac- 
cording to  the  same  authority : — 


Water 

m 

10.05 

Mucilage  . 

39.10 

Albumen  and  gluten 

22.14 

Oil 

11.93 

Husks 

9.53 

Saline  matter  and  sand 

• 

7.25 

We  do  not  see  exactly  how  the  cake  can  contain  so  large  a proportion  of 
oil  relatively  with  the  seed  ; but  it  is  probable  that  the  seed  had  originally 
contained  a large  proportion  of  oil,  and  that  it  had  been  but  indifferently 
crushed.  Good  English-made  cake,  however,  has  been  thoroughly  estab- 
lished as  one  of  the  best  of  fattening  products  ; and  the  extensive  farmers 


CATTLE  FEEDING. 


99 


of  Lincolnshire  and  other  places  expend  upon  a single  farm,  in  one  year, 
as  much  as  £400  to  £500,  for  this  article  of  food  ; and  so  well  understood 
is  its  fertilizing  character,  that  many  laudowners  are  willing  to  make  them- 
selves and  their  incoming  tenants,  chargeable  with  proportions  of  the  mo- 
ney so  expended,  at  the  rate  of  one-half  to  one-third.  It  is  the  opinion  of 
some  of  the  best  farmers,  that  when  cake  can  be  purchased  at  the  same 
price  per  ton,  in  pounds,  that  beef  and  mutton  can  be  sold  at  per  stone  in 
shillings,  it  will  be  paid  for  in  the  cattle  and  animals  fed,  without  refer- 
ence to  the  manure.*  The  price  of  cake,  however,  depends  on  no  such 
element  of  calculation  ; the  demand  for  it  has  increased  far  beyond  that  of 
the  oil,  and  in  some  seasons  it  has  been  so  great,  that  the  former  became 
an  object  of  commerce  rather  than  the  latter. 

Attempts  have  been  occasionally  made  to  render  the  uncrushed  seed 
available  by  a cooking  process,  but  it  has  been  generally  found  more 
adapted  for  calves  than  for  store  stock  or  for  fattening  ; where  used  at  all 
for  the  latter  purpose,  it  has  only  been  to  supply  a deficiency  in  turnips. 

The  most  decisive  step,  however,  in  the  use  of  cooked  linseed,  was  taken 
by  Mr.  Warnes,  of  Trimmingham,  near  North  Walsham,  in  Norfolk,  in 
1841,  when  a discussion  was  appointed  by  the  Farmers’  Club  there,  on  feed- 
ing cattle  with  linseed  cake.  Mr.  Warnes  commenced  by  inquiring  into 
the  nature  of  cake.  He  immediately  commenced  a series  of  experiments 
with  flaxseed  in  various  forms — both  crushed,  steeped,  boiled,  and  cooked 
in  various  wrays.  He  also  tried  the  boiling  of  barley  and  other  food  on  va- 
rious animals.  He  ultimately  adopted  a mode  of  feeding,  on  what  was 
called  by  him  flaxseed  compound.  He  carried  out,  in  connection  with  his 
experiments,  growing,  dressing  and  preparing  the  flax,  the  feeding  of  cattle 
with  the  prepared  seed  in  boxes  as  antagonist  to  tying  up,  and  the  sum- 
mer grazing  of  cattle  by  soiling. 

His  cooking  apparatus  is  so  simple,  that  it  is  managed  by  a blind  man. 
"whose  happy  countenance  bespeaks  neither  over-weening  anxiety,  nor  un 
remunerated  toil.  The  apparatus  consists  of  two  cast  metal  boilers,  fixed  in 
brick,  and  having  a fire-place  beneath  them  ; the  water  is  made  to  boil  be- 
fore the  flaxseed  is  put  in.  The  seed  is  crushed  by  a very  powerful 
implement,  consisting  of  two  cylinders,  one  of  them  being  of  large  diam- 
eter ; they  are  made  to  press  upon  each  other  in  their  revolutions  by  two' 
lunar  springs,  and  two  men  will  thoroughly  grind  two  bushels  in  ten  min- 
utes ; at  this  rate  the  men  are  able  to  work  the  whole  day.  The  mill  is, 
however,  capable  of  being  reduced  to  the  capacity  of  one  man.  The  crushed 
flaxseed  is  sprinkled  upon  the  boiling  water  at  the  rate  of  one  gallon  of  seed 
to  eight  gallons  of  water  ; great  stress  is  laid  on  sprinkling  the  seed  very 
gradually,  otherwise  it  is  apt  to  adhere  in  lumps,  and  cleave  to  the  sides  or 
bottom  of  the  boiler.  With  this  precaution,  however,  Mr.  Warnes  assures 
* The  pound  sterling  is  $4.85;  the  shilling  24  cents;  the  stone  weight  14  lbs. 


iOO 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


us  he  has  had  no  instance,  for  several  years,  of  this  occurrence.  This  mix- 
ture is  boiled  six  minutes,  and  for  that  period  is  slightly  stirred  5 at  the  end 
of  that  time  it  is  found  to  be  a thick  gelatinous  mass.  In  one  minute  after 
this  the  mass  became  more  mucilaginous,  and  was  improved.  Nine  bush- 
els of  cut  pea  straw  were  then  placed  very  gradually,  and  by  one  bushel  at 
a time,  in  a tub  twenty-eight  inches  high  ; the  liquid  jelly  was  now  taken 
out  in  a scoop,  poured  upon  it,  and  as  each  addition  was  made  the  whole 
was  rammed  down  by  a kind  of  beater,  more  for  the  purpose  of  mixing  the 
mass,  and  confining  the  heat,  than  for  any  other  object.  The  present  cost 
of  the  animals  in  flaxseed  is  3s.  per  head  per  week.  In  addition  to  this 
they  have  also  about  one  bushel  of  cut  Swedes  per  day. 

Mr.  Warnes  occasionally  mixes  his  compound  with  meal.  This,  when 
used,  is  also  sprinkled  over  the  boiling  mucilage.  So  soon  as  the  first  boil- 
ing was  nearly  emptied  from  the  boiler,  it  was  again  filled  with  water,  and 
was  ready  for  another  boil,  when  required. 

As  a test  of  its  value,  Mr.  Warnes  furnished  the  following  remarks  and 
experiments  illustrative  of  the  effects  of  his  system  : 

“ Flaxseed,”  he  says,  has  five  essential  properties,  viz.,  mucilage,  oil,  al- 
bumen, gluten  and  sugar.  The  shell,  or  external  crust,  is  the  hardest  of  all 
seeds,  and  the  most  difficult  to  break  in  pieces ; but  not  too  hard  for  the 
miller,  who  has  every  particle  ground  almost  to  powder,  in  order  that  all  the 
oil  may  be  expressed,  which  it  could  not  be  if  coarsely  crushed.  This  is 
demonstrated  by  the  cake,  in  which  the  presence  of  seed  is  scarcely  appa- 
rent. To  a similar  state  seed  for  the  cattle  compounds  ought  to  be  reduced ; 
otherwise  some,  at  least,  of  the  properties  above  described  will  pass  off  with- 
out benefit  to  the  fattening  animals.  This  the  scientific  grazier  will  discover 
by  the  excrements,  in  which  he  will  find  sufficient  cause  for  grinding,  not  only 
flaxseed,  but  all  grain  or  pulse,  if  possible,  into  flour.  From  researches  like 
these  the  profitable  returns  for  grazing  upon  my  premises,  may  be  dated.” 

The  expenses  of  this  copper,  with  the  whole  working  apparatus  for  80 
or  100  head  of  stock,  will  not  be  more  than  four  pounds. 

A part  of  Mr.  Warnes’  system  is  the  feeding  in  boxes,  the  growth  of  flax- 
seed, the  manufacture  of  the  fibre  into  flax,  and  the  soiling  of  cattle  with 
green  food  and  compound  in  summer.  It  would  swell  this  article  much  be- 
yond its  legitimate  limits,  if  the  box  system  were  more  fully  described.  It 
may  suffice  to  say,  that  the  boxes  at  Mr.  Warnes  have  been  put  up  very 
cheaply — they  form  two  sides  of  what  has  formerly  been  a fold-yard.  The 
sides  have  had  a roof  put  along  the  wall,  supported  by  pillars  of  wood,  and 
divided  by  rails  of  any  ordinary  wood  ; the  front  next  the  yard  being  in- 
closed by  two  gates.  The  box  is  8 feet  6 inches  square  ; and  adjoining  the 
wall  is  a passage  from  which  the  food  is  given  in  troughs,  which  are  made 
to  slide  up  or  down  as  the  manure  accumulates.  The  manure  is  never  carted 
out  until  it  is  taken  to  the  fields ; and,  as  the  boxes  are  walled  for  one  foot 


CATTLE  FEKD1N0. 


101 


from  the  bottom,  there  is  not  the  slightest  escape  of  the  liquid  manure  or 
of  the  ammonia,  and  therefore  it  is  peculiarly  rich,  from  this  circumstance 
and  from  the  stimulating  food  supplied  to  the  fattening  animals. 

Much  has  been  said  as  to  the  dirt  and  filth,  and  unnatural  state  of  the 
animals ; but  their  condition  is  precisely  the  reverse,  in  every  respect ; 
they  are  quiet,  have  exercise  sufficient  for  healthy  secretion,  can  feed  at 
leisure,  and,  'whenever  we  observed  them,  they  were  clean  and  free  from 
smell,  and  everything  objectionable.  The  fact  of  the  treading,  and  thorough 
consolidation  by  the  animals’  feet,  prevents  fermentation,  and  the  conse- 
quent evolution  of  gases  which  would  take  place  if  mere  stall-feeding  were 
practiced.  On  the  whole,  we  think  there  are  many  more  valid  reasons  in 
favor  of  than  against  box-feeding. 

The  direction  given  to  men’s  minds  by  the  experiments  of  Mr.  Warnes, 
induced  trials  with  all  kinds  of  modifications  of  fiaxseed-cooking  ; but  the 
one  which  has  obtained  the  greatest  amount  of  favor  is  that  adopted  by 
Mr.  Marshall,  near  Tliirsk.  The  great  difference  between  Mr.  Marshall’s 
plan  and  that  of  Mr.  Warnes,  is,  that  the  material  cooked  has  not  the  heat 
applied  to  it  directly,  but  to  the  outside  of  the  boiler  in  which  it  is  to  be 
cooked,  so  that  no  direct  application  of  the  fire  shall  take  place  to  burn 
the  mucilaginous  matter.  Mr.  Marshall  insists  that,  to  cook  the  material 
properly,  it  must  be  boiled  at  least  two  hours. 

His  mode  is  this : — one  pound'  of  flaxseed  is  boiled  for  two  or  three 
hours  in  about  one  and  a half  gallons  of  water.  Five  pounds  of  straw  are 
chopped,  say  one  inch  long,  and  mixed  with  two  and  a half  pounds  of 
ground  oat  or  barley  meal  very  intimately,  which  is  then  placed  on  a floor 
of  flags  or  bricks,  and  the  boiled  seed  poured  upon  the  mass,  and  turned, 
and  then  allowed  to  cool  one  or  two  hours,  when  it  is  given  to  the  cattle. 

The  cost  of  the  apparatus  or  fitting  will  be  about  £50  (or  $250).  On  the 
whole,  we  think  it  very  desirable  to  adopt  one  or  the  other  process  in  all 
situations  where  an  increased  quantity,  and  better  quality  of  manure  is  a 
desideratum,  not  to  mention  the  more  profitable  return,  as  exhibited  in 
both  the  systems  described. 

Mr.  Warnes,  altogether  unprejudiced  in  favor  of  his  own  peculiar  sys- 
tem,-has  been  experimenting  on  the  mode  recommended  by  some  graziers, 
of  steeping  the  linseed-meal  in  cold  water  for  some  twelve  or  fourteen 
hours, — when  a slight  mucilaginous  deposit  was  the  result.  The  experiment 
will  no  doubt  be  carefully  and  accurately  made  under  his  directions  ; but, 
we  confess,  our  prepossessions  are  in  favor  of  the  cooked  materials. 


[02 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


The  following  is  a plan  of  Mr.  Warnes’  slied-boxes  for  cattle-feeding  : — 


1.  Cooking-house,  20  feet  by  1C  feet.  4,  4.  Boxes,  averaging  90  square  feet  each. 

2.  Pump.  5.  Fodder-house,  with  tat  £ under  the  fbor. 

3 Storehouse  for  roots,  &c.  6.  Passage,  4 feet. 

Mr.  Thompson,  of  Moat  Hall,  Yorkshire,  one  of  the  most  skillful  and  ac- 
curate investigators  we  know,  made  some  very  important  experiments  on 
the  relative  value  of  hot  and  cold  preparation  of  flaxseed.  He  took  two 
animals,  and  fed  the  one  on  hot  and  the  other  on  cold  food.  He  had  both 
weighed  before  he  started,  and  both  again  weighed  at  the  expiration  of  six 
weeks.  The  animal  fed  on  cold  food  weighed,  when  put  up,  107  stone  11 
lbs.  (1509  lbs.)  ; that  fed  on  hot,  108  stone  7 lbs.  (1533  lbs.)  At  the  end  of 
six  weeks  the  first  had  gained  40  lbs.  ; while  the  last,  the  one  fed  on  hot 
food,  had  gained  71  lbs.  To  guard  against  the  one  having  any  special  apti- 
tude to  fatten  which  the  yther  did  not  possess,  he  reversed  the  order  ; and 
then  it  turned  out  that  the  animal  nowT  fed  o j cold  food,  and  before  on  hot, 
gained  53  lbs.,  while  the  other,  now  fed  on  hot  food,  gained  71  lbs. 

But  not  only  on  the  animals  did  the  results  of  cooked  food  show  itself  in 
this  striking  manner  ; for,  while  one  fed  on  hot  food  had  only  80  lbs.  of 
Swedish  turnips  per  day,  the  one  fed  on  cold  food  was  not  satisfied  till  his 
feed  was  increased  87  lbs.  of  turnips  in  the  same  time,  showing  a greater 
consumption  of  other  food  to  make  up  for  the  want  of  heat ! 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

DISEASES  OF  CATTLE  AND  THEIR  REMEDIES. 

This  Is  perhaps  the  most  unsatisfactory  division  on  which  a writer  on 
cattle  can  pretend  to  write.  There  are  more  cattle  destroyed  than  cured 
by  the  strange  quackery  and  drenching  pursued  by  their  over- officious 
owners  ; and  to  write  anything  to  encourage  a system  so  ruinous  is  to  per- 
petuate the  evil.  The  first  thing  a dairyman  or  grazier  does  is  to  get  a 


DISEASES  OF  CATTLE  AND  THEIR  REMEDIES. 


103 


long  list  of  “ receipts”  inserted  in  a book,  classified  or  not,  but  all  under  the 
names  of  certain  diseases.  A sow  falls  ill.  She  has  the  yellows,  or  the  stag- 
gers, or  the  worms,  not  because  there  are  any  clear  and  decided  symptoms, 
but  because  the  owner  faneles  it  is  so,  and  his  specific  is  administered.  He 
watches  intently,  and  no  good  effect  is  produced  ; he  runs  for  another  med- 
icine prescribed  by  another  hand  5 the  one  opposing,  and  perhaps  counter- 
acting the  other.  One  neighbor  looks  in,  and  perhaps  another  ; each  advises 
a medicine,  as  empirical  as  that  of  the  owner,  and  all  must  be  given,  until 
the  symptoms  increase  and  get  so  bad  that  the  village  quack  is  sent  for, 
who  is  more  clever  than  the  rest,  because  he  has  a larger  range  of  “ receipts,” 
and  he  adds  his  quota  of  drugs,  until  the  beast  dies,  poisoned  by  medicine  ! 

Now,  so  long  as  unprofessional  men  will  continue  to  prescribe  and  treat 
obstinate  and  complicated  complaints  ; and  so  long  as  the  public  press  will 
pander  to  the  receipt-mania,  there  is  no  hope  of  any  amendment.  Certainly 
we  shall  lend  no  aid  to  the  system. 

But  there  are  some  simple  and  manifest  ailments  where  the  farmer  may 
himself  administer  simple  medicines ; and  there  are  some  cases  of  emergen- 
cy, too,  when  it  may  be  necessary  to  do  something,  till  scientific  aid  can 
be  obtained.  To  these  cases  we  will  allude.  We  will  take  the  complaints 
in  the  order  of  their  frequency. 


FELON. 

This  is  a complaint  common  to  all  kinds  of  cattle.  It  proceeds  from  cold 
and  exposure,  and  is  accompanied  by  low  fever.  The  beast  is  more  or  less 
off  his  food.  His  coat  is  staring,  his  eye  dull,  his  nose  dry,  his  back  sore,  he 
will  flinch  from  the  touch,  and  his  teeth  feel  loose.  It  is  an  attack  of  felon. 
He  requires  rousing  by  cordials.  Let  him  be  housed  and  given  a drink  : 1 
oz.  of  turmeric,  1 oz.  fenugreek,  1 oz.  liquorice,  1 oz.  aniseed  powder,  in  a 
quart  of  ale  ; and  he  will  generally  recover  ; if  not,  repeat  the  dose.  A 
very  common  and  a very  safe  process  is  also  to  divide  the  nerve  of  the  un- 
der side  of  the  tail.  This  relieves  the  back,  and  is  thus  performed  : Feel 
for  a soft  place  in  the  under  side  of  the  tail.  The  knobs  are  the  joints,  the 
soft  place  is  the  bone.  Cut  the  skin  across  at  the  soft  part,  and  it  will  bleed 
for  eight  or  ten  minutes.  Tie  up  the  tail  with  a piece  of  linen  cloth,  and 
great  relief  will  be  afforded.  This  is  not  mentioned  in  any  work  we  ever 
met  with,  but  we  have  seen  its  efficacy  in  hundreds  of  instances. 

HOVEN,  BLOWN,  OR  “ OVER-FULL.” 

Sometimes  a change  of  food,  or  a feed  of  wet  clover,  or  potatoes,  greed- 
ily eaten,  will  induce  fermentation  in  the  stomach  instead  of  digestion.  The 
sides  will  be  blown  up,  until  the  stomach  presses  on  the  skin,  with  a force 
which  renders  it  hard  to  the  fingers.  For  this  the  probang  is  by  far  the  best 


104 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


remedy.  Introduce  this  into  the  stomach  by  the  throat,  and  the  foul  air 
will  immediately  escape.  This  instrument  is  not  always  at  hand,  and  the 
beast  will  lie  down,  and  the  disease  may  continue  until  the  walls  of  the 
stomach  are  ruptured.  In  these  cases  an  ounce  of  ammonia  will  often  give 
relief.  A pint  of  vinegar  we  have  known  to  effect  it;  but  the  safest  reme- 
dy is  a 'pint  of  linseed  oil.  It  lubricates  the  mouth  of  the  stomach,  and  as- 
sists the  air  to  escape  by  both  the  orifices,  otherwise  closed  up.  Gentle 
exercise  will  be  useful  ; but  all  violence,  and,  above  all,  such  horrid 
drenches,  as  tar  and  salt,  with  the  idea  of  making  them  eject  their  saliva, 
can  only  do  harm.  It  is  sometimes  necessary  to  cut  into  the  stomach,  an 
operation  a veterinary  surgeon  alone  can  perform. 

CHOKING. 

A beast  will  often  get  a turnip  or  potato  fast  in  its  throat,  which  will  re- 
sist all  efforts  to  get  it  either  up  or  down  ; and,  what  is  worse,  when  once 
this  has  taken  place,  the  beast  will  always  after  be  liable  to  the  same  acci- 
dent. The  mouth  should  first  be  carefully  examined,  to  see  that  the  turnip 
cannot  be  extracted  with  the  hand  ; if  it  can  be,  this  is  the  best  mode  by 
far  for  effecting  its  extraction.  If  not,  the  probang,  invented  by  Dr.  Munro, 
is  absolutely  necessary.  Let  a little  sweet  oil  be  first  given  to  the  animal, 
and  then  let  the  probang  be  carefully  and  cautiously  put  down,  the  cup 
end  downward  ; if  the  turnip  offers  much  resistance  it  must  again  be  with- 
drawn, and  by  this  its  position  may  be  changed.  Generally  it  will  go  down 
with  a very  slight  effort,  and  sometimes  it  may  be  got  up  by  running  the 
thumbs  up  each  side  of  the  neck,  and  gently  pressing  with  the  hand. 

CALVING. 

This,  though  not  a disease,  is  rightly  classed  amongst  them,  because  it  is 
strictly  a subject  of  medical  and  surgical  treatment ; and,  though  a natural 
operation,  is  always  accompanied  by  more  or  less  danger.  In  old  cows,  or 
cows  after  their  first  and  second  calves,  if  the  right  presentation  takes  place, 
the  animal  will  generally  calve  without  mechanical  help.  It  often  happens, 
that  cows  which  calve  unobserved,  do  the  best,  and  we  know  a very  careful 
and  successful  grazier  who  makes  a point  of  never  interfering  in  ordinary 
cases.  There  is  certainly  more  danger  from  premature  assistance  than  from 
delay.  Usually  the  waters  are  the  first  symptoms  of  decided  labor.  A thin 
filmy  bag  first  breaks,  and  after  this  the  cow  will  sometimes  eat,  and  seem 
comfortable  for  an  hour.  The  second  is  larger  and  thicker,  and  envelopes 
the  feet  of  the  calf.  When  the  feet  are  there,  or  one  begins  to  protrude,  the 
other  may  be  sought  for,  and  when  both  are  brought  forward,  mechanical 
assistance  may  safely  be  rendered,  if  the  head  is  found  between  and  above 
them.  A cow-tie  may  be  strung  round  each  foot,  and  certainty  of  the  head 


DISEASES  OF  CATTLE  AND  THEIR  REMEDIES. 


105 


being  between  them  is  a signal  for  a slow  and  gentle  pull,  avoiding  my- 
thing  like  force,  and  the  pulling  being  downward  towards  the  udder.  But 
above  all  things,  give  time.  The  muscles  relax  and  give  way  for  the  calf, 
if  proper  time  is  allowed.  When  calving  is  over,  follow  the  directions  for- 
merly given  in  regard  to  the  management  of  the  mother  and  produce, — 
the  latter  should  suck,  and  the  mother  lick  the  calf. 

Fahe  presentations  will  sometimes  take  place  ; — a single  foot,  or  the  head, 
or  the  hind  legs.  In  either  of  these  cases,  the  operator  must  wait  for  one 
of  the  throes  being  over,  and  then  gently  put  back  the  calf,  and  introduce 
his  hand,  which  has  been  previously  oiled,  and  bring  forward  the  legs 
which  are  wanting.  If  this  cannot  easily  be  done,  a veterinary  surgeon 
will  be  necessary.  When  the  hind  legs  alone  are  presented,  it  is  only  ne- 
cessary to  proceed  in  the  usual  way.  In  cases  of  difficulty,  of  malformation 
in  the  mother,  of  water  in  the  head,  or  monstrosity  in  the  calf,  it  is  always 
best  to  call  in  a veterinary  surgeon. 

Some  parties  have  a practice  of  giving  every  cow  a calving  drink.  We 
uniformly  prefer,  as  we  said,  nature’s  medicine,  the  licking  of  the  calf,  to 
any  and  all  others  which  can  be  given.  If  it  has  been  a long  and  protracted 
labor,  a drink  of  warm  gruel  will  be  useful.  If  the  cow  refuses  to  lick  the 
calf,  which  heifers  of  their  first  calves  will  sometimes  do,  it  is  seldom  neces- 
sary to  do  more  than  run  the  hand  over  the  newly-dropped  calf,  and  then 
pass  it  across  the  mouth  and  lips  of  the  mother. 

Abortion  is  a habit  with  some  individual  cows,  and  is  often  the  result  of 
the  presence  of  blood,  or  bad  smells,  arising  from  putrid  matter  decaying 
near  the  cow-houses  or  yards ; and  once  introduced  into  a cow-house,  it 
often  so  affects  the  imaginations  of  the  rest,  as  to  become  epidemic.  Let 
the  cow  and  the  remains  of  the  calf  be  instantly  removed  from  the  rest,  and 
kept  alone  and  quiet.  Chloride  of  lime  should  be  plentifully  sprinkled 
near  the  stall  where  she  was,  and  the  whole  of  the  herd  should  have  their 
no*cs  besmeared  with  tar. 

Retention  of  the  placenta,  or  failing  to  cleanse,  after  calving,  sometimes 
occurs  ; and  it  requires  great  care  to  prevent  its  retention,  when  the  expul- 
sion does  not  take  place  in  a few  hours  after  calving.  It  indicates  weak- 
ness, and  want  of  tone  in  the  uterus.  A mild  stimulant  may  be  given — 
nothing  better  than  an  infusion  of  chamomile  flowers,  say  two  handsful  in 
a quart  of  water,  added  to  a quart  of  good  boiled  ale,  and  if  necessary,  an 
injection  of  soap-suds,  to  keep  open  the  bowels  and  prevent  inflammatory 
action.  If  it  resists  all  efforts,  and  begins  to  putrefy,  it  will  be  necessary 
to  consult  a veterinary  surgeon. 

RED  WATER. 

This  is  a complaint  which  frequently  attacks  cows  in  summer  ; and,  ou 
some  pastures,  is  a regular  occurrence.  If  taken  in  an  early  stage  a dose  of 


106 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


eight  ounces  of  Epsom  salts,  dissolved  in  a pint  of  water,  will  almost  in- 
variably set  the  beast  right.  If  not  at  hand,  a pound  of  common  salt  may 
be  given,  and  the  dose  repeated,  in  case  of  need. 

QUARTER  FELON. 

Inflammatory  fever,  or  quarter-ill,  is  one  of  the  most  obstinate  diseases 
with  which  cattle  can  be  afflicted  ; and,  though  odd  instances  of  cure  have 
been  reported,  they  are  extremely  few,  unless  the  disease  has  been  attacked 
in  a very  early  stage.  It  is  also  highly  contagious,  and  will  sometimes  go 
through  an  entire  herd  of  calves  before  they  are  a year  old,  for  it  seldom 
occurs  after  that  period.  The  calf  gets  off  its  food,  and  becomes  lame  or 
stiff  in  one  foot.  The  foot  may  be  examined,  and  no  cause  of  lameness  dis- 
covered, but  soon  the  disease  has  become  general ; air  bubbles  are  formed 
between  the  skin  and  muscles,  and  there  is  a cracking  sensation  to  the 
hand  on  passing  it  over  the  skin,  especially  in  the  legs.  Inflammatory 
fever  is  disorganizing  the  body. 

Preventives,  as  the  seton  in  the  dewlap,  bleeding  in  autumn,  doses  of 
dyer’s  madder,  &c.,  are  favorite  remedies.  The  seton  can  do  no  harm, — it 
may  be  tried  5 but  no  specific,  either  remedy  or  prevention,  has  yet  been 
discovered. 


FOUL  IN  THE  FOOT. 

This  is  a tiresome,  worrying  disease,  to  which  large  heavy  milk  cows  are 
specially  subject ; and  is  to  the  cow  what  foot-rot  is  to  the  sheep.  There 
is  inflammatory  action  between  the  claws  ; it  begins  to  discharge  fetid 
matter,  and  is  a source  of  pain  and  irritation,  which  often  dries  up  the  milk, 
and  is  often  a painful  and  annoying  complaint  to  cure.  Let  the  foot  first 
be  well  cleaned  and  fomented  with  wrarm  water,  and  all  loose  flesh  be  cut  or 
clipped  off.  The  foot  may  then  be  poulticed  for  one  night  with  flaxseed-meal 
poultice,  and  then  again  fomented  and  anointed  with  tar  ; and,  if  it  should 
smell  very  offensively,  a little  charcoal,  or  a few  drops  of  chloride  of  lime, 
may  be  added  to  the  water.  Next  day  the  inflammation  will  be  relieved, 
and  brought  out  externally  by  the  tar,  and  the  foot  may  be  then  dressed 
with  the  butyr  of  antimony  (chloride  of  antimony)  night  and  morning,  and 
the  tar  applied  afterwards  The  foot  should  be  confined  in  a boot  or  stock- 
ing, and  kept  free  from  dirt.  A little  salts  or  linseed  oil  should  be  given, 
to  keep  the  bowels  in  a state  of  gentle  activity. 

MILK  FEVER. 

This  is  a common  complaint  in  cows  which  are  deep  milkers,  at  least  in 
summer.  Prevention  is  all  the  farmer  has  to  do  with,  for  the  cure,  if  any, 


DISEASES  OF  CATTLE  AND  THEIR  REMEDIES. 


107 


must  be  left  in  the  hands  of  the  veterinary  surgeon.  He  must,  if  he  see  the 
udder  distended,  milk  the  cow  before  calving  regularly  three  times  a day  ; 
she  must  be  kept  as  cool  and  quiet  as  possible,  and  have  mashes  of  bran 
only,  for  a few  days  after  calving.  This  is  cooling  and  somewhat  laxative, 
and,  if  the  udder  should  be  hard,  which  it  should  not  be  after  this  treat- 
ment, let  it  be  rubbed  with  marsh  mallow  ointment.  A gentle  dose  of  pur- 
gative medicine  may  be  given  if  the  cow  is  in  very  high  condition,  and  she 
should  be  driven  a few  miles  every  day  before  calving.  With  these  pre- 
cautions there  is  little  danger,  at  least  of  its  being  fatal. 


THE  YELLOWS  OR  JAUNDICE. 

This  is  easy  distinguishable.  White  cattle  are  peculiarly  subject  to  it, 
and  it  makes  its  first  appearance  by  a yellowness  of  the  eyes  and  under  the 
anus  5 the  bowels  become  costive,  the  teeth  loose,  the  appetite  gone,  and 
rapid  weakness  sets  in.  Give — 4 oz.  common  salt,  £ oz.  Barbadoes  aloes, 
1 dr.  ginger,  1 quart  home-brewed  ale,  made  into  gruel. 


LO-SS  OF  CUD. 

All  ruminating  animals  are  sometimes  subject  to  this.  The  stomach,  with 
a sort  of  convulsive  action,  throws  the  half-masticated  food  back  into  the 
mouth  to  be  re-chewed,  and  sometimes  this  healthy  contractile  tone  of  the 
stomach  is  lost.  Give — 6 dr.  Borbadoes  aloes,  6 oz.  common  salt,  3 dr.  gin- 
ger, 1 oz.  alspice,  in  a quart  of  gruel. 


INFLAMMATION. 

This  is  a disease  known  by  coldness  of  the  horns  and  -extremities,  gener- 
ally accompanied  by  much  acute  and  constant  pain.  All  home  attempts 
to  cure  this  disorder  will  be  impotent, — a veterinary  surgeon  should  be  at 
once  consulted  : the  same  may  be  said  of  staggers , strangury , and  a variety 
of  acute  disorders. 


PLEURO-PNEUMONIA 

Is  only  mentioned  to  say  that  nothing  like  a specific  has,  so  far,  been  dis- 
covered. The  fearful  medicine  of  a gill  of  spirits  of  turpentine  and  a gill 
of  spirits  of  sweet  nitre  seems  to  be  the  most  successful  but  desperate  rem- 
edy. If  the  animal  is  fat,  there  is  scarcely  a chance  of  recovery.  If  the 
animal  is  lean,  remedial  measures  may  be  tried,  but  they  are  more  likely 
to  fail  than  to  be  successful. 


JO© 


DAIRY  HUSBANDRY. 


THE  EPIDEMIC,  OR  SORE  MOUTH  AND  FEET  ; 

For  so  a disease  which  affects  the  mouth  with  blisters  and  the  feet  with 
pain  and  inflammation,  is  best  known,  has  lost  much  of  the  virulence  it 
possessed  from  1839  to  1844,  but  still  is  sometimes  troublesome.  A dose 
of  Glauber  or  Epsom  salts,  in  the  first  stage,  with  shelter  and  bran  mashes, 
will  generally  prevent  evil  consequences.  Should  the  foot  break  out,  the 
same  treatment  will  be  useful  that  we  advised  in  the  foul  of  the  foot. 


DISEASES  OF  CALVES. 

If  well  managed,  calves  are  subject  to  few  diseases ; and  if  starved,  neg- 
lected, or  ill  managed,  they  will  be  scarcely  kept  alive  by  medicine.  The 
most  fatal  disease  is  the  scour  or  diarrhoea . As  it  usually  proceeds  from 
some  foreign,  often  acrid  matter,  in  the  bowels,  a tablespoonful  of  sulphur 
in  the  milk  will  generally  remove  it  in  due  time.  If  it  should  continue 
after  this,  give  a teaspoonful  of  laudanum  and  a tablespoonful  of  tincture 
of  rhubarb.  We  once  had  a calf  nearly  dead  of  diarrhoea  ; medicine  seemed 
to  have  no  impression  upon  the  obstinate  attack.  It  was  dying.  We  gave 
it  a bottle  of  port  wine,  expecting  it  to  be  dead  in  the  morning.  In  the 
morning,  however,  it  was  well  and  crying  for  its  breakfast.  A pint  of  good 
old  port  will  often  work  wonders  when  all  other  remedies  have  fai’ed,  both 
in  man  and  beast. 


COSTIVENESS 

Is  sometimes  a disease  in  calves,  as  well  as  the  opposite  extreme.  Here 
it  is  undesirable  to  give  medicine,  unless  it  be  very  severe.  A handful  of 
onions,  boiled  with  an  ounce  of  fat  bacon,  is  by  far  the  best  remedy,  and  it 
never  does  injury,  but  is  nutritious  to  the  animal  even  if  well. 


GRIPES 

Is  a complaint  to  which  young  calves  are  subject,  which  have  had  sour 
milk  given  to  them  ; and  there  is  often  acute  pain  exhibited,  kicking  of  the 
belly  with  the  hind  legs,  pawing,  &c.  A cure  is  generally  effected,  in  a 
remarkably  short  time,  by  a cupful  of  peppermint  water  and  a teaspoonful 
of  laudanum. 


DISEASES  OF  CATTLE  AND  THEIR  REMEDIES. 


109 


The  great  secret  of  keeping  all  animals  is,  to  tend  them  carefii  iy  and 
keep  them  well.  Let  the  land  said  to  be  subject  to  disease  be  well  drained 
and  better  farmed  ; let  the  bad  herbage  and  cold  beds  of  the  cattle  be  cured 
and  they  will  be  healthier  and  thrive  better.  It  is  better  always  to  pay 
the  cake-crusber  or  the  miller,  than  to  pay  the  veterinary  surgeon,  how- 
ever skillful  he  may  be. 

In  conclusion,  treat  the  cow  well  and  she  will  be  grateful.  Let  all  your 
proceedings  be  dictated  by  humanity  and  kindness,  and  a more  patient  and 
grateful  servant  you  cannot  have. 


tma  sun* 


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